The Reflections in the Past
by Phoebe Miller
Summary: How things from your past can sometimes do more than haunt you.
1. Night Stirring

**Thanks everyone for taking the time to read my story. This is my first fanfiction adventure, so I'd appreciate any comments you have to give. I started this back before Hannah was even an issue. It's my take on S6 and how the team gets back together. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones! We wouldn't have to wait so long for new episodes if I did! **

Camille Saroyan rolled over for what she figured was the thousandth time that night. She glared at the clock on her night stand. If she was awake for five more minutes, she would get up and do something, maybe read a book. A storm rolled on outside the cocoon of her bedroom, but it was not the rumble of thunder keeping her awake.

She wasn't one to put much thought into nagging feelings. She trusted her gut for those split second decisions she sometimes had to make at work, yet she was grounded in science. This feeling gnawing at her insides made her search her mind for an answer. She hadn't worked anything difficult or particularly gruesome in months. In fact, she'd barely worked at all on criminal cases. She had been conducting some research about traumatic brain injuries as a personal project, and she couldn't see how that work could be keeping her awake.

She'd downed half a bottle of antacid before throwing herself into bed. She hoped she just had a case of heartburn from the spicy Thai food she'd eaten at dinner that evening. She almost wished she could go back and change what she'd ordered to something a little tamer. Memories of the heat that dinner date created between her and a certain special someone gave her only a short-lived moment of reprieve.

It was now early in the morning, and she hadn't found any relief. She rolled over yet again and faced the only window in the room. Lightning slashed through the darkness and thunder practically split open the very seam of reality**. **She sat straight up, pulling back the covers. Cam was ready to run, but from what she couldn't be sure.

She focused on the window, and during the next flash of light, she could swear she saw something reflected in the pane of glass. Her mind was playing tricks on her. That nagging feeling suddenly became a scream inside her head.

It took her a few seconds to realize her cell phone was ringing on the night table. She whirled around, tangling herself in the sheets. She grabbed the phone and almost fell out of bed. She almost didn't answer the call because the number displayed was unfamiliar.

"Dr. Saroyan," the owner of the voice was on the tip of her tongue.

"Yes." She answered uncovering herself and sliding her feet into a pair of slippers.

"I apologize for the late hour, cherie, but we have a situation."

Caroline Julian. Cam knew the news could not be good. A call at this late hour from the Assistant US Attorney meant only one thing – a case – and she was without part of her team.

_*Thank you for reading! This is my first attempt at fanfic and I'd love to hear from you. _


	2. Turbulence

**Thank you to everyone for reading this story. My chapters will hopefully grow longer as I get a better feel for this. Please let me know what you think.**

**Disclaimer: Bones belongs to someone else. I'm just having a little fun while we wait for a new episode!**

Angela Montenegro sat next to her husband, Dr. Jack Hodgins. Their private jet was on final approach to _Baltimore Washington International Airport_. Bad weather had forced them to divert their landing. Lightning streaked across the sky to the west. Ange jumped and Jack grabbed her hand.

"It's okay, babe." He soothed.

She wasn't so sure. The flight home from France had been a bumpy one. Never in her life had she thrown up on a plane. More than once she found herself saying a short prayer to the bathroom mirror.

"I'll be better when we're on the ground."

"I can't argue with that." He squeezed her hand and laughed.

"This isn't the time for laughing." She straightened her seat. "We could crash in this terrible weather, and I feel like puking again. Not to mention, you get a cryptic message from Cam mid-flight."

"She knew we were on our way back."

"That wasn't a welcome home text." She took a sip from her gingerale. "Something isn't right."

"You're just on edge because of the horrible flight."

"No, no there's something else. I just feel it."

"What you feel is two hours of turbulence at the end of a seven hour flight." He unbuckled his seatbelt. "It'll be alright once we're on the ground."

He got up and stretched.

"You're not supposed to be out of your seat." She pointed to the little sign above them. "The captain turned on the seatbelt light."

"It's my plane. I can do what I want." He bent down and touched his toes, big grin on his face.

Just then the plane lurched and Jack flew forward. He rolled into a haphazard somersault.

"Jack!" She undid her own belt and half stood to check on him. Angela wanted to smack him once she saw he was alright, but couldn't reach him.

"Point taken." He laughed and came back to his seat. "I will obey the signs for the moment."


	3. Waiting

_**This one is really short and kinda bittersweet. A little breadcrumb for you to hopefully follow... Don't worry, there will be more very soon. Thanks, as always, for reading. I'd love to know what you think so far.**_

_**Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Bones. Just passing the time. **_

"I'm back baby." That was all Seeley Booth could think to text her.

As soon as he hit the send button, he groaned. He didn't want to give her any ideas. He certainly didn't want her to think he'd been pining for her all these months. Because he hadn't done that. In fact, he'd done quite the opposite.

He quickly sent another message. "Meet me at noon?"

Booth waited while the airport buzzed around him. The luggage carousel was still silent as the throng of weary travelers gathered around it. Booth nodded at a few of the men and women. All he wanted to do was get back to his place and crash. First he needed a response from Temperance.

He thought it was funny that he was thinking of her by her given name rather than his nickname for her. He figured he was tired because none of it mattered. Bones or Temperance, he didn't care. He willed her to answer him.

Just then, his phone buzzed. He plucked it from his pocket and smiled.

"I'll see you at noon." Her response was short and to the point.

He sighed and tucked his phone back into his shirt, wishing it would ring so he could hear her voice. Luggage began its parade around the metal runway, snaking its way through the crowd. He shrugged off the moment and watched for his bags.


	4. Sweet Loneliness

**Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own Bones. The characters are simply a lot of fun…**

Dr. Lance Sweets sat at his desk, eyes focused on notes he'd typed for his book. He'd been working on this project for months. Almost scrapped it twice because it was as frustrating and hard to reach as its subjects. He couldn't get the two of them out of his head tonight.

He checked his watch and realized it was practically morning. The lights flickered as muffled thunder boomed in the background. He found the storm a fitting backdrop to his battle. He wanted to write this story, felt almost a calling to do so, yet every time lately that he put pen to paper, nothing would come.

His inspiration was gone. It was partially his fault, he figured. Though rationally, he knew this wasn't true. People had free will. They could be manipulated and prodded, but he'd done none of those things. Most of the time, he observed.

He knew the bubble had burst. It was inevitable. Dr. Brennan was fragile though she made an effort to appear strong and logical. Agent Booth was both fierce and collected while fighting an intense war with his emotions. Not to mention, she denied her heart while he often wore his on his sleeve. Something had to give. Lance hadn't expected things to turn out quite like this.

He certainly didn't expect that he'd be sitting in his office alone. Daisy popped into his head. He missed her.

His phone buzzed and skittered across the desk. He checked the number. Camille Saroyan. _What could she be calling about at this hour?_

"Dr. Saroyan." The line crackled and he held the phone away from his face. He had an irrational fear of talking on the phone during a storm.

"Dr. Sweets, sorry to bother you at this hour." Her voice seemed to come from another dimension. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, no problem. I'm working actually." He wasn't sure why he told her that. He wasn't proud of his night owl habits as of late.

"Oh, okay." He thought he heard her almost laugh before she continued. "Do you have some time available tomorrow?"

"You need my help on a case?" He replied with a little too much enthusiasm. "I mean, yes, I am available."

"Thank you, Sweets. I appreciate it, especially at such short notice." He noted the worry in her voice.

"Cam – er Dr. Saroyan – are you alright?"

She didn't answer right away, so he waited. The sky seemed to glow around him. He'd grown to love this moment in the city just before dawn when the street lights seemed to bleed into the landscape as if the light was escaping from its nightly prison.

"Yes." She said finally. "I'm alright. Just a little tired is all."

He understood completely. As if on cue, he stifled a yawn, hoping she didn't hear him.

"Get some sleep Dr. Sweets. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

With that Cam was gone. He didn't ponder their brief conversation for long. Lance turned off the computer and gathered his things. He needed to get some rest so he'd be fresh for the next day. Suddenly, he felt as giddy as a kid before Christmas.


	5. Target Practice

**I'd love to hear what you think of my story. I'm taking a little liberty with travel time here, so please forgive me. I hope you enjoy! Again, let me know what you think. **

**Diclaimer: Wish I owned Bones. Hey, that would be an awesome present...is it too late to ask Santa? **

Booth sat on his couch, barely tethered to the real world. He'd downed one too many shots of bourbon, hoping to put himself to sleep. Instead, all he could do was sit there and ride the annoying wave of thoughts racing through his mind. He hated traveling and the way it ramped up his senses. All he wanted to do was sleep after the long flights from Germany, Kuwait and Afghanistan. His mind reeled at the thought that a little more than 48 hours ago, he was in another world.

Now sitting here in his own apartment, he felt like a sailor just returned to dry land, afraid if he left the safety of this couch that he'd float away and be lost. He wasn't sure who had pulled him out of training. All he knew was it had something to do with a Senator and Cam's career. Caroline had minced no words. He was to get his butt on a plane. He couldn't say no.

His head hurt. He wasn't the best at switching gears. He took a sip of the water he'd poured on his last trip to the kitchen. He'd managed to sleep some on the plane, even though he was wrestling with the time change, so he wasn't tired. The alcohol had done nothing but slow his responses.

He flinched at the sound of a garbage truck on the street. Adrenaline surged through his body and he turned toward the open window. A breeze rippled the curtain, and he reminded himself he was home. _Home sweet home._

This thought made him think of Bones. He would see her today, and this made him happy, but those thoughts were wrapped in a ball of regret and guilt. They were the reason for his shots of bourbon. He glanced at the bottle on the coffee table and considered another drink.

"No!" He yelled.

The bourbon stood there, mocking him. He glared at it, but the bottle didn't move. Soon there were two of them taunting him. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed a pillow from beside him, picking off the target with one throw. The bottle clattered to the floor. He laughed and decided he needed to lay off the stuff for a while.

What he needed now was a bath. He listened to the storm and decided it was far enough away for him to get wet. Booth stepped into his bathroom and just the sight of the tub made his heart stop. Bones popped into his mind again. He blushed at the thought of her seeing him naked. Then he felt himself swell somewhere else and he tried very hard to push the image of her out of his head.


	6. Excitement Tempered

**Thank you to everyone who's taking the time to read. I have to admit, Brennan has been the toughest to write. **

**Disclaimer: Bones belongs to someone else. I'm just having a little fun.**

_She stood before his grave, telling him about her day. She visited him every day she could, an endless one-sided conversation. Today, she placed a single rose on the simple headstone which read Father and Friend and she actually felt the urge to cry._

_The clouds threatened. The rain would come and wash it all away. She'd better hurry._

Temperance Brennan woke to the blaring of a horn. The sound seemed to be right in the room with her. She didn't remember leaving a window open. The air had been thick with humidity, a late summer blast of heat. She clearly remembered adjusting the thermostat for her air conditioning. She reached for her weapon in the nightstand drawer, holding her breath.

Surveying the room, she noticed nothing out of place. She slipped out of her bed and listened, checking the hallway and remembering all Booth had taught her about stealth. Her heart pounded. She stepped out of her bedroom and walked toward the living room, peeking into the bathroom on her way past. She tested the front door, it was locked. A breeze caused her to turn to the far side of the room. The balcony door was wide open.

This was the third time this week. Temperance believed she was sleepwalking. She knew this was a natural reaction to stress, but it unnerved her. Sleep had once been a refuge. She could close her eyes and be at peace for a few hours. Now it seemed her mind was still doing battle even as she thought she was resting.

Deep down, she knew why this was happening. Her mind had split in two. There was the waking mind, busy with work, the one who excelled in control. Then, there was this new person who apparently wandered the night. She couldn't quite grasp the true identity of this woman.

Now the simple act of laying her head on her pillow scared her a little. She thought about taking something that would ensure she stayed put in bed, but many of those drugs were either habit forming or sleepwalking was a side effect. Her anxiety was irrational and she decided to ignore it, but drifting in and out of sleep, never fully resting, was taking its toll, and although her sleep patterns had become erratic, she had no shortage of nightmares. Most of them involved Booth. She rationalized her dreams of his death simply reflected the change in their relationship.

She didn't like psychology, but analyzing her nightly adventures had become a diversion. She didn't have much else to distract her besides work. There were no more wake up calls or lunch dates from her former partner. He'd been gone for six months. It felt longer though she knew the mind had a way of warping one's perception of time.

Temperance had been wishing for something to bring him back to her. She would stand on her balcony each night and look up at the sky, whispering her request. She knew this was futile because the city lights blocked out most of the stars, and wishes statistically didn't come true. The item wished for was normally something the wisher knew was out of reach. Yet it was this magic Booth cherished, so she gave it a try.

When Cam called in the middle of the night, she had been startled. She'd been floating just out of reach of sleep, not sure what was keeping her awake. She should be tired, exhausted even, with the schedule she'd been keeping. Her adrenaline levels were high for some reason she couldn't define.

Yet she knew instinctively her level of discomfort was because of Booth. Cam had mentioned he was on his way back from Afghanistan. Then she received a text from him. At first she could barely contain herself. Booth. His name echoed in her head. He was coming home.

They would be starting what Cam called an impossible case, but all she could think about was Booth. It seemed wishes did come true. She took this loss to logic in stride and reveled in the simple granting of her request. Her partner was back in DC, and she would see him today. Temperance could barely contain her excitement and the mix of apprehension that tainted it.


	7. Friendly Face

**Here's a little tidbit. I'll have another chapter up later today. Happy Friday and Happy Holidays!**

**Disclaimer: I keep asking Santa for Bones…but the show belongs to someone else. **

"Cam." He said, smile wide and mischievous.

"Seeley." She took a moment to catch her breath. "How did you? What are you?"

He almost laughed. Booth loved to surprise Camille. It was tough to do. Over the years, he had succeeded only a handful of times.

"Cam." He said her name again. She opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped. He grinned and waited. It was good just to hear her voice.

"How are you standing at my door when you are training soldiers in Afghanistan? I ate some spicy food last night, but this is ridiculous."

"Caroline yanked me outta there."

"Oh," She nodded sharply and opened the door wider. "Well, since you're here you might as well come in."

"Can't. I'm on my way to meet Bones."

She raised her eyebrows. He knew a lecture was coming.

"You mean you didn't see her first?"

He didn't have an answer. He knew she wanted to know why. Booth wasn't ready to explain himself to anyone. If he articulated what he was feeling, he might not get anywhere. For now, he was on auto-pilot. Cam just happened to be his first stop. It didn't mean anything. He just wanted to see a friendly face.

"Look, I've been away for months." He stepped into her apartment. "Can't a guy just have a hug?"

Cam couldn't refuse even though she rolled her eyes and half looked away from him. They'd always have a connection, that she couldn't deny, but right now, she wanted to slug him. Instead, she gave in and let him have this moment, free of judgment.

"Sure, hug away." She stepped into his arms. He took just a minute and then backed away from her smiling.

"Gotta run." He turned and was already halfway down the hall. "Important date."

He regretted the words as soon as he said them, but he didn't stop to correct himself. He couldn't date Bones. She wouldn't let him. He sighed loudly as he slid behind the wheel of his SUV and pounded the dashboard.

Booth tried to look on the bright side. He would see Bones today. What ever else came next, he left it to chance for now.


	8. Breathe

**My favorite pair finally reunites…well sorta…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. Don't you wish you did?**

Seeley Booth stared at her from across the reflecting pool. The water wasn't as clear as he remembered. The concrete walkway cracked in spots. Temperance didn't see him, couldn't from where he'd positioned himself. He wanted to see her, needed to see her, to feel sane again.

There was something different about the way her hair hung on her shoulders. She must have changed her style. No doubt something practical for the dig. She appeared to be thinner, though he wouldn't know for sure until he got closer, maybe gave her a hug. A guy hug would hit the spot right about then. He took a deep breath. It startled him how easily she could still rattle him. Six months had done nothing to dampen his feelings.

He thought he'd moved on, and in the last few months, he had managed to convince himself it was possible. Begun what he hoped would be a new chapter in his life. Not free of Bones, but less dependent on her for oxygen. He had obtained some peace from their distance and figured that was what she had in mind.

He watched as she reached into her small bag. Then, she dabbed her eyes with something white and he wondered if she was crying. His throat closed and tears burned his eyes. He braced himself against the urge to run to her. Instead, he maintained his position and observed his former partner. It wasn't often he could just watch her, study her. Memorize her every movement.

Her hand disappeared into her bag again and this time she held her phone. His phone rang and he jumped, almost giving away his hiding spot. The air was so still and the surrounding area so quiet, he was afraid she could hear his phone because to him right then it was the loudest thing in the world.

He collected his scattered thoughts and pretended he was just walking to their meeting. That he hadn't been working up the courage to approach her. Booth revealed himself and headed in her direction.

"Hey Bones, I'm right here."

/././././././././

Temperance Brennan sat on a bench in the noonday sun, feeling the sweat beading on her forehead and running down her cheek. She dabbed her face with an old tissue she found in the bottom of her handbag. She was hot and Booth was late. She found her phone and dialed his number, fingers surprising her with their memory. She hadn't called him in months.

Her hand slid to the chain around her neck and the small pendant dangling there. She'd never believed in medals, yet she had to have one, needed to feel it against her skin. Believing in something magical was a huge part of Booth, and she knew she needed some small part of him with her at all times.

The past six months had been filled with many moments of needing Booth. She'd swallowed most of them, pretending it was the heat, the ever present indigestion from strange food, or the sheer exhaustion from the dig that caused her to slow her pace some days. Daisy caught her several times leaning on a shovel or the nearest tree, daydreaming. She would say she was visualizing the dig, getting a bearing on her surroundings, though what she was really doing was reliving a moment.

When he'd grabbed her hand in the airport, she could swear she felt a zap of electricity. Like when you played with a generator in science class. This time, she had wanted more, and she could see the desire matched in his eyes. For a split second all of her doubt had been swept away and she had almost stepped into his waiting embrace.

He'd looked so formal, so cold yet so sexy at the same time. It wasn't the first time she'd seen him in uniform, yet it drove home their reality. They were going their separate ways.

They had kidded themselves that nothing would change. She'd fooled herself into believing all she was doing was gaining perspective, achieving a clarity she could only find with distance. She wasn't sure what he was running from, except his feelings for her.

This thought made her feel ashamed and helpless. She felt responsible for his decision to rejoin the Army. Temperance knew she would bear some guilt if something ever happened to him. All she had to do was say yes to his advances.

She saw him right away, his long form reflected in the water. Pressing her hand to her lips, she sighed, not expecting the sharp pain in her chest. She felt like she'd been holding her breath for months, though she knew this was not anatomically possible – she'd be dead by now. Maybe she really was dying.

Sensing hesitation in his movements, her chest tightened again. Something had changed.

"Hey Bones, I'm right here." His voice like an arrow through her heart.


	9. The Dance

**Disclaimer: By now…I think you know… ;-)**

Before Booth knew what was happening, her arms were around him. He gasped, and he was sure she heard it because she released him and took a few steps back. Her eyes searched his.

"Bones." He offered her a life raft.

"Booth." She took it.

Hands in his pockets, he surveyed the area. Mobs of tourists and school kids mingled and ambled past them. The pair seemed caught in a bubble of sorts. Booth wasn't sure what to do next.

He looked back at her to find the same expectant expression. He cleared his throat and rocked back and forth on his heels. He felt like some nervous kid. Feeling ridiculous, he took a deep breath.

"Come here." He held out his arms.

Temperance didn't hesitate. She slipped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and just savored the feel of her against him. Things couldn't stay the same. He knew instinctively that she was aware of this too. They were both hanging on to their old way of interacting. Once they let it go, it might never return.

She pushed away and looked at him, though he felt like she was seeing through him. She'd already begun to build a wall. He knew the signs. Used to be though, he was on the other side of the fortress. Now, he feared she might shut him out as well.

Cam had warned him about cracking her shell. Booth assumed he was immune. He was sure luck and love were on his side. Placing what he'd thought was a sure bet, he gambled with his future and lost.

~.~.~

"I heard you had a female under your command." Her voice was a little unsteady.

Booth looked up from his intense study of the ground. Her eyes darted away from his.

"Hodgins told me." She half whispered.

"Hodgins told you." He repeated.

_How the hell did Hodgins find out about Gina?_

"He read about it on the internet. " She read his mind.

Booth tried to collect himself. He'd wanted to feel out the situation before mentioning Gina. Here Bones knew about her all along.

"So this was a once in a lifetime opportunity for you."

That did it. Something in him snapped.

"Of course it was Bones. Do you think I'd run off to Afghanistan on a whim?"

"No, I uh, I simply meant – " She stumbled with her words.

"It doesn't matter what you meant, Bones. You just made me feel like shit. Like I'd run off to a war zone to get over you."

"But I never said anything about – "

"I told you I had to move on, and I did. My going to Afghanistan was purely professional. And a matter of duty and honor."

He paused, checking her expression. It suddenly occurred to him that she might be on the verge of tears. She blinked only concern and confusion back at him.

"I would never leave Parker. Risk him growing up without me. I had a job to do."

"I never said –" She tried again, but her voice trailed off with little effect.

"Now you, you traipsing off to Mapuku or whatever to dig up some five thousand year old remains, that's a stretch. You were looking for an excuse." His eyes were as sharp as daggers.

"What are you saying Booth? I traveled thousands of miles to run away from my problems?" She moved closer to him.

"I'm not saying anything Bones." He took a step backwards.

"You're implying that your mission was more important than my own. That mine was purely for selfish reasons. Somehow duty and honor only apply to you?"

Her response surprised him. He didn't expect her to fight back.

"Furthermore, you believe I uprooted my life because of you?"

"You told Angela you needed some space to think." Booth was grasping at straws.

She shot him a hurt look and sat on the nearest bench, arms crossed in front of her. Now he knew he was in trouble with Angela. That conversation should not have been shared. Her eyes flashed anger but only to mask a deeper betrayal.

"Yes, I did need space to think, as Angela told you. Though space isn't required for one to think. You just do it. I needed to gain some perspective. But not concerning you in particular. Has it ever occurred to you that you are not the center of my life? There were larger issues at play."

"Larger issues at play? Like you could just dump all of our hard work and run off to the jungle to dig up some bones."

"This was one of the most important finds of my career. Much like training a female is to yours."

He flung himself beside her on the bench. She didn't scoot over to give him any room. By now, they were both making excuses, allowing anger to replace their awkwardness and confusion. Booth just sat there, feeling as if he'd turned to stone. He shivered and closed his eyes. _How had things gone so wrong between them? _

He caught the familiar scent of her shampoo. Out of habit, he stretched his arm behind her. She leaned into him, and he felt her relax.

"I missed you, Seeley Booth." Her voice soft and small.

"I missed you too, Temperance Brennan" He closed his eyes.

**This was a tough chapter to write. Some of this information may not be completely accurate, so I apologize. There are females in some NATO units, though their presence is rare. Women do not serve in combat positions in the Army or Marines, but there have been females trained as snipers in other military services, such as the Air Force. They are often referred to as sharpshooters, though, rather than snipers. If anyone has any information regarding this subject, please let me know. Thanks for reading.**


	10. Feel the Burn

_**Disclaimer: (Insert a snappy sentence here about how I don't own Bones…)**_

Brennan bolted up and headed for the coffee cart, leaving Booth to practically fall off the bench. The moment was unceremoniously over.

"Hey!" he called after her.

Every time she tried to focus on what she wanted to tell him, anger bubbled to the surface. She had waited months to speak to Booth again. Now here she was, face to face, and all she wanted to do was punch him. She wasn't sure why.

He hadn't stopped her from leaving. Had joked around about the name of the island and the nature of her work, but not once did he tell her not to go. Never seriously.

There was no late night confrontation at her apartment that ended in tearful confessions and sex. Not even a phone call good-bye. Just a small gathering at The Founding Fathers with the rest of the gang. And then that small moment at the airport.

She swore she could feel his touch for days afterward. Thought she might possibly be able to fathom why people said they weren't going to wash their hand after touching someone. Not that she would go to such unsanitary levels to remember Booth, but she could begin, albeit remotely, to understand why one might have that thought. She didn't want to lose him.

"Bones, wait."

"I'm not going anywhere Booth. Here," she handed him a coffee.

"Thanks Bones."

She sat back on the bench. It was a bit warm for coffee, she reasoned, but this was a matter of habit and an important ritual in their relationship. She couldn't compromise what little they had left.

Booth sat beside her, this time with a little distance between them. He blew on his coffee and took a tentative sip. She wanted to warn him it was hot, but he grimaced with his own realization.

"Bones, Temperance, I have something to tell you."

Her heart jumped. She recalculated her bodily response to the tone of his voice and the sound of her given name. At that moment, she might agree to anything.

"Yes Booth."

He set his coffee on the ground and faced her. She held her breath.

"I met someone."

Shock, total shock rocked her mind. She gave little away with her expression. She tried for surprise. Like she was happy for him. Which she was. She was so confused.

"And I want you to meet her."

Bones dropped her coffee in her lap.


	11. Bad Acting

**I wasn't sure I'd finish this chapter tonight. It's longer than I planned. I'd love to know what you think.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or the characters…they just seem to have possessed my mind!**

"Jeez, Bones are you okay?" Booth scrambled to get napkins from the coffee cart.

She jumped up sending the cup flying. Luckily not much had spilled. Her jeans soaked up most of the liquid, but she could still feel the heat. She figured the area would be a little red but no burns. She was indeed fortunate. Coffee brought to this temperature could easily cause second and third degree burns.

"Yes, yes Booth, I'm fine. My pants received most of the damage." She reached for the napkins in his hand.

He moved close to help her clean up, but stopped realizing he was not welcome.

"Thank you for the napkins. I can manage from here."

"I'm sorry, Bones."

"Sorry for what, Booth?"

"The coffee."

"I bought the coffee."

"No for you dumping it in your lap."

"I dropped my cup, Booth."

"Yea, but I – "

"My hand slipped – "

"Bones – "

He took her hand.

"This hand." He tightened his grip when she resisted. "Doesn't shake."

She couldn't take her eyes from his lips.

"This hand." He kissed her the back of her hand. "Doesn't slip."

She pulled away from him.

"Booth – "

She made a quick swipe at her pants and tossed the napkins into the nearest garbage can. Booth spun around and started walking.

"Wait Booth."

"What Bones?" He slowed some, but didn't stop. The aggravation clear in his voice.

"You met someone." Her eyes gave away what her voice couldn't.

He hesitated and let her close the distance between them. He thought for sure she might disappear in front of him.

"I met someone." He didn't mean for the words to be anything but gentle.

Booth held his breath. His vision skewed, zeroing in on her and her alone. His hearing suddenly became very padded, like that cotton ball feeling you get after a loud concert.

Her eyes, like lasers, focused on him, and he saw the moment something flashed behind them. He wanted to grab her and shake her, tell her it wasn't the end of the world. Stop her from building that wall, brick by brick.

She looked down and smoothed her outfit. When she raised her head to face him, she smiled. And in that moment, Temperance Brennan was a fantastic actor. If he didn't know her so well, he'd believe anything that came out of her mouth. _If he didn't know her so well._ Before she could perjure herself, he held up his hand.

"Stop." He didn't want her to pretend it was alright. "Don't tell me you're happy for me and that you'd love to meet her. This is hard enough without you lying to me. Just give it to me straight, Bones. Let her rip."

"First of all, I'm not ripping anything. I'm fine." Brennan straightened her posture. "I'm processing information – and not very well." She motioned to her pants. "I seem to be wearing my reaction to your news."

Booth almost laughed, but he swallowed his reaction to her. It wasn't funny how she was able to change gears so easily. He turned away from her, rubbing his temples, feeling like he might explode right there on the sidewalk.

She returned to the bench, hovering for a second before sitting, eyes slipping to and from Booth. Like a computer, she processed the information provided. He admired her intellect, but it wouldn't help her now.

"As long as this new girl doesn't affect our partnership. I'm fine with it."

He didn't believe it. He threw up his hands and groaned.

"What do you want me to say Booth? Go on, tell me. Because you know I'm not good at this."

"At what, Bones? Feeling?" He shook his head. "You want me to tell you how to feel? How the hell can I do that? It's not scientifically possible, not to mention it's just not right."

He bent toward her, their noses almost touching, hands on his hips.

"How do you feel? Right." Kissing her crossed his mind, "Now. Don't think. Just tell me what first comes to your mind."

"My pants are a little damp, Booth," She took a deep breath. "I need to go home and change my clothes."


	12. Benched

_**Here's a little nugget of insight into Booth's brain. Not sure how I feel about this chapter. What do you think?**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.**_

Seeley Booth let her go, knowing he couldn't hold her. He nodded and half listened as she told him she'd see him in the morning. All he could do was stand there and watch her go. Swallowed by the crowd, Bones disappeared in seconds.

Sure, he'd met someone else. He'd met a lot of people during the six months he was away from her. It all came down to semantics, and he was sticking to his story. No matter how much fiction it involved at the moment. He needed to hang on to something.

He had played around a bit, which was so unlike him. He felt a little dirty about it, yet he didn't have anyone to answer to but himself. Maybe Parker, but the kid didn't need to know about his old man's romantic life.

Hands in his pockets, he flopped down on the bench. What he didn't reveal was how unsure of the whole situation he really was. Gina had come back to the States two weeks before him and not once had she called.

Booth didn't want to tell Bones about Gina. Hell, he didn't want to tell anyone at the Jeffersonian. He felt like he'd betrayed the whole team. Gina wouldn't fit into that picture easily.

_And why should she?_ Another part of his brain protested. _Wasn't he allowed to be happy and have a perfectly normal adult relationship?_

Only thing, it wasn't normal. Booth wasn't even sure if it was a relationship. They had barely spent any time alone together and had to disguise any moments they did share.

Now, Gina was in the process of moving to Virginia. Her tour had actually been up before he was called back to DC. He'd helped her out with a letter of recommendation for the Bureau. He knew he didn't love her. He felt like the roles with him and Bones had reversed, and he was the one satisfying urges.

But there'd never been any actual intercourse. Not that Gina hadn't tried. Truth be told, he was never more thankful for interruptions. Twice they'd been stopped by explosions just outside the compound. Another time, a subordinate officer almost walked in on them making out and half naked in his tiny little tin can quarters. Gina had slid easily under his cot. He had to laugh about that one. Told her she should join the circus. That of course, reminded him of Bones.

Bones... Booth didn't know what to do.

_**Thank you again for reading. I'd love to know what you think of the story and what you'd like to see happen.**_


	13. An Uneasy Return

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. I'm just trying to survive until the next new episode... :-)**_

Jack Hodgins stood at the railing, looking down into the lab. Angela sat in Cam's office, chatting and catching up. He didn't want to make small talk. All he wanted was to get back to work, to occupy his mind.

The Gravedigger case was back in the news. There was a hearing pending, and that had him on edge. He was uncomfortable with Heather Taffet breathing fresh air. He wanted her buried and trapped in a car, terrified and pleading for her life. Like he still was sometimes.

Paris had been a dream. A summer filled with sight seeing and love making. He thought of Angela and smiled. They had a secret, which made his smile wider, and the dark clouds disappeared. He listened as bits of conversation and laughter floated his direction.

Cam was in a very good mood for someone about to be canned. He'd make sure she wasn't fired. He'd make a stink about his annual donation to the Jeffersonian or something. Jack had cards to play. He couldn't let the team fall apart.

Except it had already fallen apart, each member blown to a far flung corner of the Earth. Everyone but Cam. She had stayed behind to hold down the fort. He had a newfound respect for her.

"Jack?" Angela called from somewhere below him.

"Be right there, babe." He flew down the familiar stairs.

He met her on the platform. Snaking his arms around her, he breathed her in. His earlier chill vanished completely at her very touch. She giggled as he blew on her neck, brushing her soft skin with his lips.

"Jack." She scolded, nuzzling against him.

Cam cleared her throat, "You two should get a room. Or buy a whole hotel or something."

He blushed and released his wife.

"Just don't do it in the storage room again, please." Cam wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

They all had to laugh at that. Three very different kinds of laughter. Jack, proud of himself, Ange a little wistful, and Cam embarrassed. There was a moment of awkward silence.

"I have your back, Cam." Jack returned to his serious mood.

She nodded, "Thank you. That means a lot."

"They can't fire you." Angela added.

"Well, they very well could fire me." She turned to Hodgins. "This is bigger than you."

"Nothing is bigger than money, Cam." He held her gaze.

She looked at the floor and smoothed the hem of her short skirt. Ange changed the subject.

"So, tomorrow we start the case?"

Cam regained her composure, "You all do. I've already been working on it."

"We can start tonight." Jack stepped forward, his voice eager.

Ange tossed in her support. "Yea, what have you got for us?"

Cam held up her hands and shook her head.

"No, don't worry about it." She smiled. "You two just got back from Paris. Go home, get some rest."

"Come on, Cam. We want to help." Jack asserted.

"No seriously. I have nothing for you." Her statement confused them. "Well, not _nothing_ nothing. I'll explain in the morning."

She shooed them to the parking garage and the three said their good-byes for the night.

/././././

"So did you tell her?" Jack pulled into traffic.

"No." Ange pushed a button and her window came down a little. "I want to tell Brennan first."

"She hasn't called you back?"

"Daisy kept giving me excuses. I swear I almost called Bren's apartment last week." She rested her arm on the open window, letting the cool air hit her hand.

Jack stopped at a red light. "You think she came back early?" He was surprised.

Ange folded her arms in front of her.

"You think she came back early." He repeated. This time it wasn't a question.

His wife ignored him.

"And she didn't tell you." Jack reached for her.

She shrugged him off, "Something's not right, Jack. And I'm going to find out what it is."

**_Thanks, as always, for reading!_**


	14. Cannon Ball

"Bones took good care of me while you were gone." Parker munched on his ice cream cone.

Booth picked at his plate of French fries. A little preoccupied, he felt terrible because he hadn't seen his son for six months. He just couldn't focus on anything. _Until he heard her name._

"Come on, Buddy, she was in Indonesia. That's like a thousand miles away." He tried not to show his surprise.

"Not the whole time. She came back early."

He wiped his mouth with a napkin and studied his son. Parker concentrated on devouring his desert, crunching on the rest of the cone. He looked up at his Dad.

"I wasn't supposed to tell you. She made me promise." His little face filled with concern. "I hope she doesn't get mad at me."

"Nah, she won't be mad at you, Parker." Booth smiled at his son.

Bones had made his son promise her something. Booth wasn't sure how he felt about that. Especially something this big. All that time he'd been worrying about her getting attacked by guerillas in the jungle, she'd been here in DC, hanging out with his son.

_Bones had been back in the States._ He wondered for how long. He forced himself to pay attention to Parker.

"She took me swimming. Her pool is really cool. And we went to a movie and the Zoo." Parker matched his Dad's expression, grinning with chocolate stuck to his front teeth.

Booth ruffled his son's hair. He sipped his milkshake, suddenly no longer hungry. Nobody had told him. They didn't know she hadn't contacted him once during their time apart.

He took a deep breath, controlling his emotions in front of his boy. Parker loved Bones. He didn't understand how hard it was for his Dad to be around her. Booth pushed away from the counter a little. The diner hummed around them. It was right in the middle of the dinner rush.

Seeley Booth didn't know whether to be angry or grateful. His mind circled around and around the subject, while he tried to pay attention to Parker. His son rattled on about Bones doing a cannon ball. He smiled and laughed in all the right places, trying to picture his partner being silly.

He was walking a tight rope, not sure if the next step would be his last. Checking his watch, he hoped Rebecca wouldn't be late picking up Parker. He wasn't sure how much longer he could sit still.

Bones had looked after his boy. She could have locked herself away from the world. His chest tightened. Temperance Brennan still had the power to make him crazy.


	15. If Then

_**Disclaimer: By now, you all know…**_

Brennan had to get out of her pants. Traffic had been miserable, and it had taken some time to get home. She was uncomfortable and the area where the coffee had soaked through was a little red and sore. Undressing in front of the mirror, she stopped to survey her body. She kept herself in shape, muscles supple and toned. Hand on her belly, she wondered what pregnancy would be like.

She applied a bit of aloe lotion to her burns and then slipped into some comfortable clothes. It was a little early for pajamas, but right now, she didn't care. She even thought about taking a nap. Maybe the nightmares wouldn't find her during the day.

Ultimately, her mind drifted to her partner. Brennan had no plans, nothing to keep her mind occupied. She turned on the TV, a recent purchase. Flipping through the channels, she wondered how Booth was doing. She could tell when she left him that his time with Parker would not be enjoyable.

She settled into the couch and closed her eyes. She hadn't counted on Booth meeting someone. She hadn't thought about that possibility at all. She couldn't tell him how his revelation made her feel. She reasoned she had what she needed. They could still be partners, and that had always been enough in the past.

Brennan had come back early to test a theory. If she could make it two months on her own, then she could make it forever. She had to prove her hypothesis under the most normal conditions. The jungles of Indonesia did not count as anything close to normal.

No one could know she had come back to the city. Recognizing the significance of the experiment, Daisy had eagerly agreed to keep a secret, making them "pinky swear." Neither woman quite understood the ritual, but Daisy was convinced it would help. Lance had always stressed the importance of symbols and their intentions. Brennan knew Daisy missed Sweets. She envied her colleagues ability to put work first.

Her experiment was going quite well until, one morning, she awoke from a nightmare, unable to catch her breath for a long time. Her instinct was to grab her cell phone and dial Booth. Then she remembered her hypothesis. If she could make it alone, then she could survive. Running off to her partner would negate her efforts. Not to mention, he had been thousands of miles away in a war zone.

Then, on a whim, she had called Rebecca and set a play date with Parker. She didn't even calculate the risk of being discovered. She employed the "pinky swear" again, much to Parker's amusement. She knew he would eventually confess to his Dad, and that was okay. She wanted Booth to know in a strange way. She just wasn't ready to tell him the results of her experiment.


	16. Missing Things

_**May the next year bring you happiness and peace. Hope you enjoy this chapter. I seem to be channeling Hodgela today. **__**I'd love to hear your opinions. **_

Jack sat at the kitchen table, sipping his second cup of coffee. He'd been watching his wife pace the room, while he pretended to read the morning paper. He very much preferred to avoid the mine field this morning.

"I want to stop by Bren's." Angela stuffed some things into her handbag.

Jack shrugged and stood up to grab his jacket. "Why don't you wait til we get to the lab?"

"I don't want to wait, Jack." She frowned at him. "I've waited long enough."

"I'm sure she has her reasons for not calling you." He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead. "Let's just go to work and get settled."

"Get settled. What are you talking about?" She pulled away from him. "And stop trying to ply me with hugs and kisses. It won't work here. This isn't Paris."

He backed up a little.

"Touchy." He held up his hands.

"No, I'm just under the influence of some pretty powerful hormones." She grabbed a sweater, but didn't put it on. "So watch out."

He flinched a little as she passed him and headed for the door. He shook his head and laughed to himself. He had about eight more months of this. He couldn't wait.

/./././

Jack came out of the house to find her waiting for him in their car.

"Ya know." She reached across to open the door for him, seeing he had his hands full. "I agree with Booth. This really is a clown car. Or better yet, a sardine can."

"Stop." Jack shot her an annoyed glare. "I understand you're going through a rough time with surging hormones and wayward best friends. I get that, Ange."

He tucked his bag behind his seat and set his coffee in one of the cup holders.

"While I agree with your argument that this vehicle will soon fail to meet our needs, I like it. And I'd like to enjoy it while I can." He fastened his belt.

Angela grinned, "You're so hot when you get mad."

She leaned toward him and they kissed. As she pushed away, she whispered, "I still hate this car."

"Well, I'm not buying one of those government issue SUVs like Booth drives."

"They're so cliché, but so hot." She took a sip of his coffee. "And I won't be caught dead in a minivan."

He pulled out of the driveway. "I agree with you there."

Angela played with the sound system, plugging in her iPod. "I made us a mix for the commute."

Jack nodded and eased on to the highway. He didn't care what music they listened to, only that she was sitting beside him.

"Hey! You missed the turn!" Angela threw her hands up in a flurry of waving and motioning behind them.

Jack stared straight ahead. "No, no I didn't miss the turn."

"I want to talk to Bren."

"You'll see her at work." He slowed for a light, and turning to Angela, he added. "Give her some space, Angie. She'll come around."

"Yea," She folded her arms over her chest. "Maybe by the next Ice Age."

/./././

"Here's what we've got people." Cam flicked the remote at the large screen and a picture of a young woman appeared. "This is Katie Jones, 24 years of age. Intern to Senator Lerhman."

She flashed through a series of pictures. Angela figured they were head shots and old yearbook photos. She watched intently, trying very hard to ignore the vibe between Booth and Brennan. She had expected her best friend to be happy to see Booth after months of this gaining perspective thing. Instead, there was a distance she couldn't explain.

"Katie has been missing for about three months. Her body has never been found." At surprised reaction of her team, she added more details. "She wasn't reported missing until four days ago because the Senator believed she was taking a leave of absence."

"What about her family?" Brennan asked.

Booth turned his attention away from Cam. Angela tried to discern the look on his face. She followed his eyes to Brennan, who was standing on the other side of the room, staring at the screen.

Cam checked her notes, "Her family believed her to be working for the Senator. They didn't know she was missing. It seems they weren't in contact with their daughter."

"What about a boyfriend?" Booth half raised his hand.

"Nope, no mention of a significant other." Cam barely looked up from her note cards.

"May I ask why we're on this case?" Angela stepped up to the plate. "I mean, we have no evidence of foul play, no body."

"About that," Cam cleared her throat. "Well, I received a very late phone call from someone who had also received a late phone call."

Jack began his usual rant about authority and power corrupting everything, and Booth turned away from the group. He motioned for Brennan to follow him and the partners headed in the direction of her office. Angela watched them deciding to wait for a better opportunity to confront her friend.

**_My Angela would never drive a minivan...she doesn't have to worry about product placement!_**


	17. Girl Talk Interrupted

_**Thank you to everyone who's been reading! Happy Jan 2**__**nd**__**!**_

Angela waited until Booth stepped into the little boy's room. Then she ambushed her friend.

"You really need to tell me what's up with you." She stood in front of the desk.

"Hello to you, too, Angela." Temperance looked up from her work and smiled.

"There will be no avoiding of the subject here." She tapped her fingers on the desk.

"I'm not avoiding anything, Angela. To what are you referring?"

Angela sat on the couch and sighed. This wasn't going to be easy, so she decided she had nothing to lose by being direct.

"Why didn't you tell me you were back?"

"You and Hodgins were in Paris on your honeymoon." Temperance flipped through a stack of papers on her desk. "I didn't want to interrupt your special time together."

"That's right, Sweetie. We were on our honeymoon. In Paris. It doesn't mean we shut out the rest of the world."

"In some cultures, the honeymoon lasts one year. The husband's obligation is solely to please his wife."

"For a whole year?" Angela shook her head. "Wow."

"Sometimes, it's only one month, like the phase of the moon." Temperance nodded at her friend. She looked more than ready to continue this conversation in the wrong direction.

Angela sighed in frustration. Temperance was adept at changing the subject.

"Bren, why didn't you tell me you were back?"

"Ange, I don't have an answer you're going to accept."

"Try me."

Temperance looked at the ceiling and closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

"You might think less of me."

"I would never think less of you."

"You can't make such definitive statements, Angela." She pushed away from her desk. "Everything changes."

"Not our friendship."

"I'd like to believe that." Temperance sat beside her friend.

"Hey what'd I miss?" Booth walked into the room. "Everything alright?"

Both girls looked at him mid-hug. A corner of his shirt wasn't tucked in the whole way. Temperance chuckled at his appearance. Booth looked down, blushing ever so slightly. He spun around and fixed his shirt.

"Just girl talk." Angela sprang up and headed for the door. "Which we will finish later, Bren."

"She sounds serious." He sunk into the couch. "Everything alright?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"Maybe because they care about you?" The frustration evident in his voice.


	18. Awkward Invite

_**Here's another chapter! Let me know what you think.**_

They worked for another hour or two, reading over the case file and bickering about possible scenarios. Temperance abandoned Booth on the couch and again took up position at her desk. She grew impatient with the stack of folders in front of her, knocking over the pile when she tried to pull something out of the middle of the stack. The resulting domino effect caused the whole thing to slide to the floor in a fluid cascade of papers.

Booth jumped up and came to her rescue, catching a few folders before their contents splashed across the floor. He gathered up the odds and ends and tried to help her organize her work. She gave up in frustration shoving everything to the side of her desk. He put his hand over hers.

"Bones," His eyes found hers. "Take it easy."

"I'm not taking anything. I'm trying to work." She yanked her hand away from his.

Then she opened the file for the Katie Jones, which had somehow remained unscathed in the middle of her desk, and stared at its pages. He swallowed his need to pursue her for now and decided to focus on the case.

"I'll check with the local cops. See if there've been any Jane Does." Booth angled himself so he could read the file over her shoulder. She didn't object to his closeness.

"I really don't see why I'm even needed at this point. I have other projects I could tend to in the mean time." She dared not move her head. He was way too close.

"No Bones, this is more about moral support." He half sat on the edge of her desk. "For Cam."

"You're right." She handed him the file. "For Cam."

There was an awkward pause. The file seemed to hang in the air for an instant. He seemed stuck on something he wanted to say.

"Booth." She poked him with the folder.

"I uh want you to meet her." Booth shifted his position a little.

"The girl you met?" She tilted her head toward him.

He took the folder from her and moved away from the desk. "Yes Gina."

Brennan nodded slowly, "You want me to meet her?"

"Yes, Bones. Have lunch with us tomorrow. I'd like to know what you think."

"Why would my opinion matter?"

"Just because."

"That isn't a reason."

He tucked photos into the file folder and sat down on the couch with a huff. She observed him from her desk, not moving an inch.

"Please." He relaxed a little when she smiled.

"Okay. I will meet this girl you met." She began rearranging the stack of paperwork.

He could tell she was uncomfortable. He was uncomfortable. _Why on Earth would he ask Bones to meet the girl who could possibly become his girlfriend?_ He wasn't sure what the hell he was doing.

"Thanks, Bones. It means a lot to me."

"I don't know what kind of opinion I can give you."

"Doesn't matter. I'd just love the company." He grinned at her, searching for her reaction.

She maintained her position, eyeing him with a look he couldn't quite place. He felt like a specimen in a Petri dish. Without warning, she pushed away from her desk and grabbed on her coat.

"Well, I'd love to meet her too then." She slid her arm in a sleeve and had trouble finding the other side.

Booth came to her aid, helping her put on her coat. He sensed something was off and wanted to question her further, but she kept on going and disappeared out the door. He stood there for a minute, thinking himself a giant idiot for asking Temperance to meet Gina.


	19. Regroup

_**The last chapter might be a little OOC. This one will hopefully clear things up a little. There are a lot of opinions out there about Booth. I'd love to hear from you. Let me know what you're thinking!**_

Booth walked through the lab, lost in his thoughts. He barely registered Hodgins waving from the platform. He didn't feel like making small talk with the bug man right then, so he blocked everything out except his path to the door.

He thought back to the night before and his phone call with Gina. It would be good to see her again. She had finally returned his call and had been eager to see him. She was staying with a friend in Fairfax, and would be in town for an appointment. She had even mentioned meeting Bones.

Booth wasn't sure he could take it to the next level. Being back on familiar ground further confused the hell out of him. He felt a connection with Gina due to the nature of their work and training. She'd been right there beside him on the task force patrol a few times; her courage and skill impressed him. And she knew how to take a lot of shit from the guys in the unit, dishing it right back to them.

He wasn't sure where things were going or if they should continue past Afghanistan. He _was_ sure he didn't want to be a monk for the rest of his life. He was no saint. He had biological urges that needed satisfying. But he was conflicted.

Though he couldn't see a future without Temperance Brennan, Booth knew this was selfish. He'd told her he had to move on, to find someone to love. That didn't mean dragging her along with him on lunch dates.

He'd blamed her for rejecting him, for breaking up the team. Sadness and disappointment still shadowed his memories. He'd put a lot of effort into their relationship. Booth had grown a lot as a person because of her, even let into his world and opened his heart about secrets he'd rather forget.

Searching himself, he knew the truth. It was no one's fault. He'd jumped the gun and she had retreated. Then they both ran off to their respective corners. Neither of them had taken a moment to think about what he was really asking, what a true partnership could mean for them.

And then she came back to the States and didn't tell him. She hadn't contacted him at all for six months. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Instinctively, he knew she had rationalized it somehow. She must have been testing, or torturing herself, as he saw it. Booth wanted to know what was going on with her, and he couldn't do it while chasing after another girl.

The first thing he needed to do was cancel lunch with Gina. He just couldn't give her the idea that there could be more between them. He dialed her number, leaving a voice mail for her to call him ASAP. He groaned and hoped he'd catch her before tomorrow.

Booth ducked behind a pillar in the parking garage when he saw Temperance and Angela climbing into a car. They were laughing about something. Their voices lifted his spirits. He stood there just out of sight and watched them leave before climbing into his SUV.

/./././

The two friends had lucked out and found a parking space right in front of the Diner. They'd also managed to slip in just before the lunch rush. It was their lucky day, Angela had commented, which led to a conversation about how there was no such thing as luck. Some things never changed.

They sank into a comfortable silence, each seeming to feel the other out, while trying to enjoy the company of the other. Angela knew it was of no use to try to pry anything out of her best friend. It just wouldn't work. So she waited for the right moment to broach the subject. To her surprise, Temperance beat her to the punch.

"I'm sorry I didn't return your calls."

"Or tell me you came back early." Angela felt the need to add this bit.

"Yes, I should have confided in you. I'm sorry."

"Sweetie, you don't have to apologize. Just tell me what's wrong."

Temperance poked her straw at the ice in the bottom of her cup.

Angela hesitated and continued, "Is everything okay with you and Booth?"

"Yes, we're fine." She sipped what was left of her iced tea.

"You've been away from one another for six months. You aren't fine." Angela stabbed her fork into three fries and dipped them into the ketchup. "And what's this I hear about him dating a girl from his unit?"

Temperance cringed and swallowed hard. News traveled fast. Someone must have overheard her and Booth.

"She was part of the task force in Afghanistan. I'm meeting her at lunch tomorrow."

Angela raised her eyebrows and put down her fork mid-bite. "You're doing what? Don't you find that odd?"

"No, I'm meeting her at lunch with Booth tomorrow. He wants my opinion. Apparently she's a big fan."

"I'm sure she is, honey." She wiped her mouth and dug into her purse.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Ange. Your tone implies you don't believe me."

"She's totally checking you out. She's not your fan. She's competition."

"Competition for what? I'm pretty sure she isn't a forensic anthropologist."

Angela sighed and picked up the bill.


	20. All Used Up

"Caroline is coming in this afternoon." Cam stood in front of her team. "Do we have anything to tell her?"

"No Jane Does that fit Katie's description." Booth stepped forward. "I have a buddy at Metro keeping an eye out for me."

Cam nodded. "Good, that's a start. Angela, have you been able to contact her parents?"

"No," Angela looked up from her clipboard. "I've left messages. I'll take a shot at her coworkers today. Maybe dig up her transcripts, find a few horrible year book pictures."

"There's nothing for me to contribute." Jack stood off in a corner, arms folded in front of him. "I'm not sure why I'm on this case when we don't have any – "

Temperance cut him off, "I agree. There are no remains, no physical evidence."

"We have to keep digging. Contact all of her acquaintances. Get an angle on her relationships." Cam tried to maintain control.

"That's more Booth's job." Temperance turned his direction. "He does the people stuff."

Sweets stood off to the side, arms crossed in front of him, watching. He hadn't contributed anything. Booth was sure he'd been asked to run a profile on the missing girl. He was about to get the psychologist's attention when Cam spoke again.

"I don't have any answers for you. I'm just glad you're here." She paced, hands on her hips. "Look, the press is already crucifying the Senator."

"Oh like Condit." Booth nodded.

"Like any case involving a Senator and his intern." Angela shook her head.

Jack groaned. "So I see; we're here to run damage control. Make it look like Senator Lehrman didn't do it."

"I assure you. We are only looking for the truth. I'm ready to sacrifice my career for it. I don't expect to drag the rest of you down with me." Cam took a deep breath. "So you can work on other projects until we get some new leads. I do expect you to work on this case every day though. Just a little bit. For me."

/././././

After the morning's briefing, they found themselves hovering over paperwork and file folders without any physical evidence for the case. No new leads had developed overnight. Temperance had to admit she was bored, her talent wasted on a favor. Booth was annoying her with his conviction to put 100% into this case. She would make up her mind once they had more evidence.

"I have this file in front of me." He slid the folder toward her. "This young woman nobody seems to know."

"I assume you mean that metaphorically because there are several people who claim to know her, Booth." She turned the papers around so she could see them.

"Give me some slack here, Bones. I'm working something out in my head." He took a photograph from the file and laid it in front of him.

She watched him, pretending to read the notes in the file from local law enforcement. He seemed to study the picture with his full attention. She marveled at his process. He went with his gut, while she examined with careful precision. She could only see things once the outer layer had been removed.

"Bones." He tapped the page in front of her. "Are you in there today?"

This, she knew, would be the first of many attempts on his part to drag something out of her she wasn't willing to bring up yet, if ever. His first foray was unsuccessful. She nodded and replied simply, "Yes."

If she added more, he would have a snappy comeback, and she wasn't in the mood to spar with him this morning. She hadn't slept much and had again found the sliding glass door open. She was beginning to wonder if she should record her sleep to see just what she was doing at night.

No, she still believed she had things under control. Tonight she might put a chair or something in front of the balcony door. Maybe that would stop her in her tracks or possibly wake her up. Temperance couldn't ask for help. She really didn't want anyone to know she might possibly be sleepwalking.

Booth put his hand over hers. For the briefest of moments, they just looked at one another. He entwined his fingers with hers and gave her a light squeeze, noting how cold her hand felt.

"Let's stop for lunch." He wouldn't take no for an answer. "I'll meet you there. I have to call to make first."

/././././

"Gina, I've been trying to reach you." Booth sighed as he turned the keys in the ignition. He sat there idling in the garage. He couldn't cancel this close to lunch.

"I'm sorry, Seeley. I was a little busy last night."

Her voice echoed a bit on the phone. He had to look around because he could swear she was right there with him. An odd chill crept over him for just a second, but he brushed it off.

"Are you still up for lunch?" He tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible.

"Oh lunch, that's right." She paused. "No can do, Seeley. The meeting was pushed back. I'm actually in traffic right now. Why don't you go without me?"

"Sure," He paused, not sure how to proceed. "I uh I'd like to get together and talk."

He waited for her reply, but none came. He thought she might have hung up.

"Gina?"

"Seeley," her voice seemed cold and distant, "We both know there's nothing to talk about. We're back in the real world now."

Before he could say anything, she added, "And thanks for the recommendation. It will come in handy today. I never could have gotten this interview without you."

That's when it hit him. She had used him.

"Don't be so surprised, Seeley." She read his mind. "We all do it. Have to give a little to get where we want to be. I know you get it. You were a lot of fun, though."

He didn't get it. He'd never used anyone to get where he was. He worked hard for it, played the game a little maybe, but he had never used anyone.


	21. Confession

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. _**

When Booth didn't show up at the Diner, Temperance called his cell. He didn't pick up the first time, so she left a voice mail and tried again. This time, he answered.

"I'm sorry, Bones. We're gonna have to cancel lunch. Something's come up."

The tone of his voice made her stop in her tracks. She'd been pacing in front of the huge window of the restaurant. She noticed her heart rate had increased.

"Okay Booth." She hesitated, but didn't ask him any questions. _Something was wrong_.

"I'll see you back at the Jeffersonian later." He hung up before she could say anything more.

Temperance headed for the one place she knew he'd be.

/././././

"How did you find me?" Booth looked up at her.

It was funny how they seemed to be alone in the crowd at the Lincoln Memorial. Tourists and school groups were everywhere.

"This is where you often go to think." She sat beside him on the step.

Booth smiled and moved closer. He could see her register his change in proximity. She didn't flinch.

"Yes it is." He was happy she'd come looking for him.

"So what are you thinking about exactly?" She crossed her arms in front of her with a bit of a shiver.

He didn't want to tell her, but he could not disappoint those eyes. He knew she wouldn't judge, so he opened himself to her.

"I made a mistake, Bones." _About a lot more than Gina._

Booth could see her wheels turning, half expecting her to give him a mini lecture about mistakes, something meant to encourage that would end up frustrating the hell out of him. Instead, she grabbed his hand and gave it a light squeeze. His mind went blank and he said the first thing that came to mind.

"It's cold today."

"Yes, it is quite cold for October. The weather reports state it is –" She stopped mid-sentence and turned her whole body toward him. "Booth – "

"Bones, I." He swallowed hard and took his hand away from hers. "I made a huge error in judgment."

"Is everything okay? Will it affect your status with the FBI?" Her eyes were clouded with worry.

"No, nothing like that." He hoped his best attempt at a smile would reassure her.

She waited for him to continue.

"I trusted someone." They were suddenly face to face, noses almost touching. "I trusted someone when they didn't deserve it."

He could tell by her facial expressions that she was lost in his words, concentrating on everything he did or said. For a split second, he considered kissing her. Everything around them disappeared and he suddenly wished she could take that next step with him and just trust he wouldn't let her fall. He'd given up on her too easily.

"Does this have something to do with Gina and our lunch date?" Temperance added a little space between them.

Of course, she figured him out. He wanted to say something smart back to her, but he was frozen, afraid if he opened his mouth he'd burst into tears.

"She's the one from your unit, right?" She tilted her head. "Did something happen in Afghanistan?"

Booth cleared his throat, fighting his emotions. The tenderness in her voice surprised him. Times like this, he could tell her anything.

"She used me to get into the FBI." The words were out of his mouth before he could think about them.

"Oh." She whispered. "I'm sorry, Booth."

He took her hand and pulled her toward him. He really needed a guy hug. When he rested his head on her shoulder, she shivered. They held on to each other for a moment. He could feel her body heat, smell her hair. It was all so familiar and so infuriating at the same time. Temperance pushed away first and slid a few inches from him, playing with the buttons on her coat.

"So I guess lunch with Gina is out." She didn't make eye contact.

Booth had to laugh. She was good at stating the obvious. "Yea Bones, lunch with Gina is out."

"We could go on our own, if you want." Her face brightened as she closed the distance ever so slightly. "Or we could just sit here. It is a lovely day."


	22. Broken Glass

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Bones. There would be no lines to cross if I did..._**

Temperance stood outside the Diner. They had been separated in traffic; Booth missing a light. As luck would have it, she had found a parking space relatively close to their familiar lunchtime haunt. She watched Booth cruise past her and she gave him a small wave. He grinned and kept going, slipping into a spot about half a block away from her.

Her stomach growled. She wondered what was taking him so long, so she reached into her jacket pocket for her cell phone. Her keys clattered to the sidewalk, and then, the window exploded in front of her. Jagged shards caught the early afternoon sun and fell to the ground in a shower of jeweled daggers.

Temperance didn't feel the shot, only confusion from her knees giving out. She sunk to the ground, and the crowd formed a channel around her. Faces beamed in and out of focus. It felt like all of her warmth was oozing out of her chest and she put her hand over her heart. Voices rose and fell like on a rollercoaster. Just as she slid on to her side, she thought she heard someone call her name.

/././././

"Bones!" Booth yelled and broke into a sprint.

Instinct told him she'd been shot. The way she'd dropped made him fear she could be dead. He didn't have time to be professional. Booth tried not to push people out of his way, but they all seemed stuck to the ground, turned to stone.

When he got to her side, her eyes begged for an explanation. All he could do was repeat her name. Someone had already dialed 911, but no one was close to her, no one was comforting her or trying to help. The crowd had formed a ring around her, silent as the cold. She reached for him, grabbing at his clothes but never taking hold, and his world almost fell apart. He shook off the wave of panic he could feel bearing down on him. He had to get control.

Assessing her condition, Booth murmured reassurances. She was breathing and her airway was clear. The wound was above her heart; he was sure of it. _He prayed it was._ He was afraid to move her too much, but he tucked his arm underneath her to adjust her position just a little so he could apply proper pressure. His hand came away covered in crimson.

"Oh God Bones." He stared at her blood on his fingers. He had a flashback to another time he'd had her blood on his hands and he almost blacked out.


	23. Not Fine

_**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Bones. We'd have a new episode if I did…**_

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you." The sound of her voice made him jump.

"Tell me what?" Booth held on to her, trying to apply pressure to her wound despite his trembling hands.

Her speech was slow, breath deliberate. He feared he'd lose her to shock.

"I'm sorry I came back." Temperance swallowed hard. "And didn't tell you."

"That's okay. It doesn't matter." He smoothed her hair back out of her face.

"Yes," Temperance squirmed under him like she was trying to get up. "It does."

"Whoa, where are you going?" He figured her adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay for now by the way she fought against him.

"I feel fine, Booth. Let me up." She continued to struggle.

He leaned over her trying to pin her to the ground without hurting her.

"Just relax. Try not to move." He did his best to keep his voice calm.

"I can't feel a thing. I'm fine." Sweat beaded on her forehead.

"You're in shock." He caught her eyes with his, and she glared at him.

"I'm fine." She gasped almost like a hiccup and closed her eyes for a second or two. "It can't be that serious."

Temperance reached for her shoulder, fingers recoiling a little when she found her own blood. He saw the recognition on her face.

"That's right. You've been shot. You are not fine." He held on to her; the sound of sirens growing ever closer. Booth closed his eyes, praying help arrived soon.

/./././././

"I just heard a report of shots fired over at the Diner." Cam appeared on the platform.

"Our Diner?" Hodgins looked up from his computer.

She nodded.

"Brennan and Booth are meeting Booth's girlfriend for lunch." He pushed his chair away from the desk.

"Wait – what?" Cam stopped. "Girlfriend?"

"Some girl from his unit in Afghanistan."

"Shots fired?" Angela scanned her card to gain access to the platform. "What are you talking about?"

"Probably gang-related."

"Gang-related?" Hodgins made a face. "What gang?"

"Gang violence is ever encroaching on –" Cam stopped talking as Angela was already dialing Brennan.

"I have to make sure they're okay." She held the phone to her ear, hand shaking.

Everyone held their breath and waited. Angela shook her head. "It went to voicemail."

"That doesn't mean anything." Cam didn't believe a word she said. "They're probably caught up in the commotion. They'll call."

"I just talked to Booth." Hodgins flipped open his phone. "DC Metro found a badly decomposed human hand with partial forearm in Rock Creek Park."

"What?" Cam raised her eyebrows. "Shouldn't that have gone through me?"

Hodgins shrugged. "You were busy. Booth gave the guy my name. I don't know. I was headed over to the scene."

"Without Booth and Dr. Brennan?" Cam crossed her arms.

"We didn't get that far. Booth hung up. On. Me." All the color left his face.

"Oh my God!" Angela steadied herself against the work station.


	24. Saving Grace

The EMTs arrived quickly, shooing Booth out of the way. He pushed against them, not wanting to leave her side. She didn't fight, only kept trying to tell them what was wrong with her. Before he knew what was happening, they were loading her into the ambulance.

"Booth!" She reached for him, practically tearing the IV that had been placed in her arm.

He grabbed her hand and shot the paramedic a look that clearly stated he was riding along to the hospital. He didn't care about the police scrambling to control and make sense of the scene. Questions could be asked later. Right now, he wasn't an FBI agent. He was a concerned friend and – _well he wasn't sure what else he was_. All that mattered was getting Temperance to the hospital.

The ride was smooth, though traffic was a bitch. He watched the color drain from her face as the driver maneuvered through the myriad intersections and oblivious drivers, the sound of the sirens filling his head. She struggled to focus on him. He squeezed her hand and concentrated on her worried eyes. Neither of them spoke, but the silence between them had weight, tying them to one another with all those things they could never say.

He barely blinked; afraid he might miss one second with her. She'd lost a lot of blood. Nothing in life was guaranteed; he knew this. Her wound was in a precarious place, so no one would be sure of the damage until the doctors had a look at her.

Suddenly they were stopping and the ambulance crew scrambled into action. Booth moved with them, helping where he could as his precious cargo was unloaded and wheeled into the hospital. In the flurry of activity in the ER, Booth lost his grip on his partner and a little bit of reality, barely registering the words shouted by the attending physician and nurses. He felt like he had two left feet as he was utterly helpless.

Unable to follow them to the operating room, he watched the doors swing shut, taking all of his strength and pinning it to the hope that he'd see Temperance smile again. He strained to watch them through the tiny window as they hurried down the hallway, disappearing around a corner. His heart pounded in his ears and everything went white.

Booth wasn't sure how long he stood there, holding on to the railing, fearing he was about to pass out. The struggle to control his breathing took precedence over everything, and it didn't help that he kept going back to the same corrosive thoughts - _He hadn't protected her._ _This was his fault._ _If he'd only –_

"Seeley," a voice pulled him back to reality.

He gulped back an ocean of tears and fell into her arms. After a moment, he caught his breath. "Don't call me Seeley, Camille."


	25. Dissolving

Booth felt like he had dissolved in water; no one could see him but he was there with them, all around, just on the tip of their tongues. They seemed almost afraid to approach him. He'd managed to calm down after their arrival, thankful for the company. He didn't know if he could go through this alone.

The waiting room was silent. It was as if there was a cocoon around them. He hated the way hospitals existed in a surreal sort of bubble. Just outside those windows, the world went on its merry way. Hovering on the edge of denial that anything horrible could really happen. Booth knew the truth. Bad things happened, and they happened to good people.

_Bones, he whispered._

He held his St. Christopher medal and asked God for forgiveness. What he had in his heart right now was not love. He had revenge on his mind.

Booth stared at his gun on the table in front of him. Closing his eyes, he could feel his finger on the trigger. _How easy it all was._ He knew what the shooter felt as they lined up their sights and – he couldn't finish the sentence, but he knew.

He forced himself to get angry. Rage he could deal with better than worry and fear. Because right then, he feared he would lose her. He had to make himself think about the person and the weapon, the cause of his intense pain.

His gut screamed this was not something random. He didn't know what it was, but Temperance had been the target. Booth had no proof, though, nothing to show for this knowledge that hit him like a punch to the gut.

He pictured the street near the Diner. The shot had to have come from across the street. His mind, though, was fuzzy on the details. As much as he concentrated, he couldn't see much more than his partner bleeding on the cement. He pushed his mind to think about this like a case.

_Focus, dammit._ He didn't realize he'd said the words out loud.

"Booth." He knew it was Angela, but she seemed so far away. He could feel her presence, worried, yet filled with compassion. He looked up at her. His words had been stolen by a single shot, he had nothing to say.

"Sweets brought you some clothes."

He didn't even know Sweets was there. And he certainly didn't know why he'd be bringing him clothes. His mind could not get itself wrapped around that thought. He was just about to ask Angela why people were bringing him clothes when Sweets popped up behind her, holding a pair of sweats and a shirt.

"Thought you might need this."

Exhaustion collided with Booth, and those clothes suddenly looked so good to him. He felt uncomfortable and stiff in his cold dirty clothes. He looked down at his shirt, un-tucked and half buttoned. He felt almost embarrassed to be falling apart in front of his friends.

"Yea I guess I could change." He stood slowly, smoothing his shirt, oblivious to the true state of his clothes. He didn't realize why the others cringed when they looked at him. He looked like he'd just walked out of a horror movie. Reality wasn't on his register.

He grabbed the clothes from Sweets and walked to the restroom. The lights suddenly too bright and the glare on the floor blinding. He shivered as a chill rippled through him. He was so tired, so drained. He pushed himself to take each step, knowing the others were watching and he had to remain strong for as long as he could.

Booth trudged into the bathroom, checking all the stalls. Relieved to be alone, he braced himself against the nearest sink. Groaning loudly as he stretched his back. He took a few deep breaths, exhaling some of the trauma of the day. When he looked in the mirror, his heart stopped.

Her blood. He still had her blood on his hands, on his shirt. He hadn't noticed. Hadn't thought to change his clothes or even wash his hands. Her blood. He didn't want to wash it off until he knew. Until he knew for sure she was ok.

His heart raced and everything was going white again. He could not get control of himself. Closing his eyes he fought against the rising panic.

"Booth." A voice came from behind him.

He hadn't heard the door swing open and closed with a swoosh. He hadn't heard anything but the beating of his own heart.

"Booth." It was Angela again. All he could think was why was she in the men's bathroom. "Booth, you need to change your clothes."

"No, I can't."

"Yes, you can, sweetie."

"I don't want to lose her, Ange."

She slipped her arm around him and they stood in front of the long row of sinks for what seemed like hours to him. Then, she broke the silence.

"Let's wash your hands first."

She took his hands and held them under the faucet. He flinched when the warm water hit his skin. Booth watched the brown stain dissolve, running off his fingers in reddish streams, leaving only a hint of her under his nails.


	26. Coffee and Donuts

/./././././

Hours later, waiting was beginning to take its toll on them. Hodgins stood in the corner doing battle with the coffee machine. Cam sat off to the side, rubbing her feet. She'd given up pacing. Angela thumbed through a pregnancy magazine she'd found on a nearby table. Exhaustion wired with anxiety kept them all awake.

"I came as soon as I heard, cherie." Caroline appeared in the doorway as if by magic. She was armed with coffee and bags of donut holes. "I know the food around here sucks."

She motioned to Hodgins who was still fighting with the coffee machine. "And that thing hasn't worked for years."

She set her spoils on the nearest table. "Get over here bug man. Have a donut hole."

Everyone descended on the table. _Everyone except Booth_. He'd managed to calm down a little until he saw Caroline. He met her eyes as she set out the coffee and donuts, patting everyone on the back, doing her brand of reassuring. She walked over to Booth and sat beside him.

"It's a tough one, cherie. Seeing the person you love like that."

He didn't bother opening his mouth to correct her. There was no need; it was true. He loved Temperance. Afraid he might start sobbing like a little boy, he didn't respond. The pair sat there for several minutes, the only sounds coming from the rest of the group busily munching on sweets and mainlining caffeine.

"Anyone call Max?" Caroline cracked open the silence and everyone jumped.

Booth shook his head in a disappointed no. He opened his mouth to speak, but Angela cut him off.

"Russ too. Don't forget her brother."

Caroline acknowledged this and walked out of the room with her cell phone. Booth sighed and felt completely at the mercy of the group. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't remember to eat or drink, let alone alert the family. He allowed himself this defeat. His life had become nothing but waiting, each breath closer to an answer.

The world spun away from him again. He might have fallen asleep; he couldn't be sure. Time passed in a more elastic fashion in hospitals, slowing down and speeding up, snapping back to reality every so often.

Booth leapt to his feet when he saw the doctor approaching. The only words he heard were stabilized and breathing on her own. Collapsing into the chair again, he rubbed his eyes, faces going in and out of focus. His heart raced back to life, taking his breath away.

"You can go see her now." The words like gold. "But only one at a time."

Booth snapped to attention, standing too fast. He grabbed Caroline for support.

"Are you okay, sir?" the doctor moved toward him.

He lied and straightened himself. Right then, though, he was anything but okay.

"He needs to eat something." Angela's voice startled Booth. He'd forgotten she was there he was such a mess.

"Ok, a quick visit and then you all should head to the cafeteria." The man looked around at them. "Ms. Brennan needs her rest. It could be a long night."

There was no question Booth would be the first to see her. He followed a nurse through the maze of corridors. She kept looking back at him, throwing him reassuring glances.

"Here she is." They stopped outside a lonely room at the end of a hall. "Go on in. She's still unconscious, but don't worry. That's normal after surgery."

He remembered his surgery and how long it had taken him to wake up. His chest tightened and he couldn't catch his breath.

"Are you sure you're alright?" The nurse touched his arm. "You weren't injured in the shooting, were you?"

Booth had to double check himself. No, he wasn't hurt. He was several feet away when it happened. He should have been by her side. He would have taken the bullet for her.

"Fine. I'm fine." He whispered. "I just need to see her."

The nurse nodded and stepped out of the way. "Remember, only a few minutes."

He took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The room was small but private, the bed taking up most of the space. He hesitated in the doorway for a moment, too scared to go any farther. If not for the IV tubes and monitoring machines, she looked peaceful.

"Bones." Her name slipped from his lips like a prayer. Booth crept to her side.


	27. Sleep, Fickle Sleep

"I can't sleep, Jack." Ange sat up in bed, dragging the sheets her direction.

"It's no wonder. We've been through a lot today." He slid up some, readjusting the covers.

She turned toward him, eyes wild with worry. "I keep thinking about her lying there all alone."

"Dr. Brennan's not alone." Jack leaned on his elbow, smoothing her hair with his other hand. "She's got Booth."

"Not like she should."

He half shrugged, agreeing with her. They'd had this conversation before; he knew where it was going.

"We really need to lock those two in a room."

He cut her off. "Angie, I think you need to get some sleep."

She threw herself into the pile of pillows. "It's true though. Someone needs to knock some sense into them."

"Wait and see. I bet this experience will give them a little push."

She nodded. "Yea, Booth's really taking this hard."

"Of course he is, Ange. He loves her." Jack pulled her into his arms. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

/././././././

Sweets paced his office. Cam had ordered him to go home and get some rest. She would pull the overnighter with Booth and Brennan. Sinking into the couch, he knew sleep would be difficult after the day's events.

His chest tightened when he thought of Brennan lying in that hospital bed. Alone at her bedside, he'd squeezed her hand and had promised to look after Booth for her. He knew the lump in his throat had nothing to do with his professional duties. Sweets had come to admire and truly love Brennan.

The cleaning crew shuffled through, barely noticing him reclining on the couch. He needed some advice of his own right about now. Shifting his mind to the many sessions he'd led with Booth and Brennan, he smiled. The pair existed in a world of their own when they were truly in sync, and he'd done his best to crack their code. They still managed to outwit him every time.

The call from Cam had startled him. He'd just sat down to eat lunch at his desk. Daisy had all but disappeared since her return from Maluku, so he was alone with his thoughts. He'd considered going to the Diner in hopes of running into someone from the Jeffersonian, but he didn't want to appear desperate.

Cam had instructed him to bring a change of clothes for Booth. She told him where to find a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and urged him to hurry to the hospital. No other details had been given. He knew right away something had happened to Brennan.

His many degrees were of no use to him now. The doctor had assured all of them that her condition was serious but stable. The surgery to repair the damage had been a success. For someone who didn't believe in luck, Brennan sure had a lot of it.

Sweets couldn't shake his unease. Someone he cared for had been injured seriously. He attempted to make sense of the situation, but gave up, realizing that no amount of analysis could get them through this. Only time, and maybe a little love, would heal. Chuckling, he heard Brennan's voice in his head scolding him for such fanciful notions. Love couldn't heal wounds, she'd tell him. Only medical expertise and time.

He gathered his things and headed for his apartment. He would shower and maybe try to catch a few winks. Then he'd return to the hospital to check in on his friends. Sweets decided it would be best to cancel his appointments for the next few days.

/./././././

"Booth." Cam stood next to him, materializing out of thin air. She set a cup of coffee on the table beside him.

He felt the warmth of her hand as she brushed his arm, but he didn't move. The aroma from the steaming cup drifted to him, and his stomach growled. He hadn't been able to eat anything. Reaching for the coffee, Booth kept one eye on his sleeping partner. Cam settled into the chair behind him.

The city was dark outside the window. Somehow the lights didn't even seem as bright tonight. He knew Cam meant well, but he just couldn't face anyone. Talking seemed impossible. He concentrated on breathing and watching the machines monitoring Brennan. The rhythm calmed him. As long as her heart still beat, Booth had a chance at happiness.

"Seeley." He hated it when Cam used his first name; it made him feel small. He turned her direction hoping to convey his disapproval, but he couldn't even muster a frown.

"Camille." He managed to whisper, his voice hoarse.

"Have you eaten anything?"

He shook his head.

"Can I get you anything?"

He simply stared at her, knowing she understood. The question merely a formality, a courtesy between friends. The coffee she'd brought was enough for now. He sipped the hot liquid letting it burn his tongue.

They continued to sit in silence for several uncounted minutes. He laid his head on the edge of Brennan's bed, holding her hand. Booth didn't notice Cam leaving, his body betraying him with its insistent need for sleep.


	28. Morning Comes

_A nice hot bath._ That's all Temperance wanted. She could feel her body sinking into the water, stinging hot at first and then oh so soothing. Just the thought of it relaxed her a little. If she could just get out of this bed and turn on a light, but her body felt heavy.

She drifted in and out of consciousness, her mind playing tricks on her. She thought she was at home in bed, dreaming again, but she was so cold. Attempting to adjust her covers, she found she couldn't move. A moment of panic rippled through her, and then she knew nothing for awhile.

When she was aware again, her eyes felt glued shut, which she knew was irrational. She tried to stretch, but something restricted her, and pain shot from somewhere. She felt disconnected from her body, and this unnerved her. Heart racing, she willed herself to remain calm. She would test her body one step at a time. Starting with something simple, she wiggled her toes. Her legs felt stiff, but they thankfully moved too. Relaxing a little, Temperance continued.

She opened and closed her right hand, surprised by the effort it took. Her stress levels rose again when her left hand failed to answer her commands. She took a deep breath and tried again. This time, her fingers tingled like circulation had been decreased, but they responded. Further experiments into moving her upper body produced sharp, painful sensations, and confusion reigned.

Her mind couldn't process what was happening. _Why couldn't she open her eyes?_ _Why was she in so much pain? _The combination of an apparent injury and something tethering her to the bed must be what kept her in this prone position. Her throat burned when she tried to speak, and all she could manage was a series of moans. Temperance fought the impending panic and shock; she had to stay lucid. But to no avail.

_Trapped, she was trapped. _Her mind traveled back to the crushing panic of waking up in her car, buried underground. Her breathing became erratic, and she thrashed about, trying to free herself, but the pain was too much. She felt herself sinking again.

/./././././

Temperance stirred, whimpering, and his heart leapt. He stroked her hair, hoping to soothe her, totally unaware of the battle raging in her mind.

"Bones." He whispered her name. He'd said it so many times in the past hours. Once upon a time, she didn't particularly care for her nickname. He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Please come back to me. Someone needs to correct me, keep me in line."

He implored her to open her eyes, but she lapsed back into the in-between state she'd been drifting in since the surgery. Booth choked back tears. Fear wrenched his chest and for a moment, his lungs refused to accept any air. Helplessness soon melted to frustration and then anger. In that moment, he was thankful Cam had taken his gun.

Booth sat there, watching the dim light of morning edge its way across the room. He wasn't sure how many times he'd allowed his eyes to slide shut, but he always woke up holding her hand and watching desperately for some sign she knew he was there. Hoping he hadn't worn out his welcome with the big guy, he said another prayer.

The nurses were changing shifts soon, and this meant he might have to leave the room for a few minutes. His legs could use a good stretch, yet it tore him apart to leave her side. He didn't want to miss it if she opened her eyes. He didn't want to miss a single beat.

Right on cue, an unfamiliar nurse stepped into the room. He tried not to make eye contact, hoping he could become invisible. She acknowledged his presence, but didn't say a word. She simply went about her tasks, checking the IV and monitors. Just as she was about to leave the room, the nurse broke the silence.

"You really should get some sleep, Agent Booth." She smiled at him. The expression burned him though; it didn't comfort.

"No, I want to be here when she wakes up."

"Someone will come and get you." Her lips pert; face firm. "There's a room you can use down the hall."

"No, you don't get me." He tapped the bed with his forefinger, raising his voice just a little. "I want to be here when she wakes up."

The nurse nodded, her understanding smile melting into a frown as she turned and exited the room.

/./././././

Temperance opened her eyes. Her vision a little fuzzy, she squinted at the bright light. Booth sat beside her, his warm hand clasped around hers.

A slight twitch in one of her fingers got his attention. For a second, he thought he was hallucinating, and he rubbed his eyes. When he opened them, she was still there, smiling at him expectantly.

"Hey stranger." He squeezed her hand.

As she struggled to speak, he tilted his head and smiled.

"It's an expression, Bones. It's okay."

Her face lightened and he knew he'd gotten through.


	29. Revelation

In the rush that followed, Booth stood by the windows. All he could do was smile. _His Bones was awake._ He caught himself chuckling at her comments to the doctor and nurses. It was good to hear her voice, and nice to see she hadn't lost her spirit. When Temperance fought with the doctor to get out of bed, he was at her side in an instant.

"I'll help her." Booth told the room.

"Booth, I really think I can do this myself."

"No, you can't. You're weak." He looked into her eyes. "Please."

He didn't have to say another word. She acquiesced and they began the slow process of unhooking lines and arranging the IV so she could stand without yanking anything out of her body. The gruff nurse from earlier was by their side guiding their movements, supervising. It was clear, though, who was in charge of Temperance. Booth never left her side.

Soon, she was sitting up, legs dangling over the side of the bed and feet barely touching the floor. He flashed back to New Orleans all those years ago when he'd rushed to her side. He didn't remember feeling so helpless back then. He had to look away for a second to blink away tears.

She showed no sign of the pain he knew she felt. The nurse fit her with a sling, and her motions were a little forceful at times. He wanted to step in, to help, but he kept a little distance, letting the professionals help his partner. He would guide her when his turn came.

Temperance slid off the bed like she was jumping off a cliff. She did her best to disguise her uncertainty. His hands slipped from her back, causing her gown to hike up a bit. She shot him a look that made him blush. He realized he was focused on her very pink panties. He looked away, clearing his throat as she readjusted her gown. The nurse, however, found the moment amusing.

"Your little friend brought you a few things." She backed away from the pair. "It's over there."

Booth hadn't noticed the tote bag, and he couldn't recall anyone making any deliveries during the night. Of course, he was in and out of reality for a time. Angela could have dropped off some clothes. He grabbed the bag and set it on the bed beside her. Temperance selected the first thing she found, a big fluffy robe. He helped her get her right arm into the appropriate hole and draped the other side over her wounded shoulder.

_He couldn't help but think pink for the rest of the day._

/././././

They walked the length of the corridor, Booth steering with one arm positioned to steady his partner. She wanted nothing of his help on the surface, but he noticed her leaning into him every time they paused to adjust something or for her to pretend not to catch her breath. Strong, she definitely was, yet no one was invincible. She seemed uncomfortable in her sling, tugging the strap every once in awhile, readjusting its length. He could sympathize with her physical discomfort. Some of his old injuries still echoed remnants of their pain. He worried most about the wound to her psyche, to his as well.

Neither had spoken about yesterday afternoon. Merely twenty-four hours ago, they were headed for lunch when someone out there changed their plans. Booth hadn't allowed his mind to go there during the long night of waiting for Temperance to wake. Now, he couldn't stop the merry-go-round of thoughts revolving through his head. Most of all, he wondered why this happened.

As the pair returned to her room, she stopped, bringing his brooding to an abrupt halt. He caught himself from stumbling forward. He didn't want to fall and take her with him on a quick trip to the floor.

"Whoa Bones." Booth recovered and brushed off the misstep. "Warn a person before you stop like that. Let's get you back into bed."

When she didn't move, he tugged on her robe.

"Booth, I think I can take it from here." She motioned toward the bathroom at the entrance to her room. Leaning against the wall, she fought to remain standing.

He blushed, and for a second he thought about backing down. Then his eyes fell on her trembling hands, and Booth realized her hold body was shaking. Sweat glistened on her forehead.

"No," he said. "I will walk you into the bathroom, help you get situated and then give you some privacy. I'm not gonna let Nurse Cratchet manhandle you again."

"I highly doubt that's her name, Booth." Temperance chuckled. "That's a character from a movie."

He glared at her, hands on his hips. She clung to the hand rail along the wall, trying not to let him see how much she needed him. How unsteady she was on her feet.

"Really, I can do this myself." She lied.

He encircled her with his strong arms, taking the weight of her and they began to walk again. "You can barely go two feet without help, Bones." He stopped their forward motion and caught her eyes again. "Please let me do this."

/./././

An hour later, the bathroom debacle forgotten, Angela settled into the seat next to her best friend's bed. Booth had stepped out for some air and coffee.

"Bren, you really need to learn to keep me in the loop."

"I assume that means I should call you back." Temperance tried to adjust her pillows, wincing.

"Yes and more than that." Angela helped her friend. "It means you share your life with me. Let me know your comings and goings."

"Keep you in the loop." She nodded. "Inform you of my comings and goings."

"Like when you come home from a dig."

"Oh." Temperance shrunk into herself.

"Yes, oh. Here I was thinking you were neck deep in a hole somewhere in Indonesia sifting dirt for some special bones." Angela smoothed the crease in the magazine she was reading. "And you were back in D.C. doing – What were you doing anyway?"

"Nothing special."

"Don't tell me that. I know Daisy didn't get back until last week, so it's not like you finished early with the dig." She leaned toward her friend. "Come on, Sweetie, tell me."

"You're not going to like it."

"How do you know unless you tell me?"

"Using past experience as a precedent -"

"Bren, just stop." She squeezed her best friend's arm.

"I was conducting an experiment."

"An experiment?" Angela tilted her head. "What kind of experiment? You weren't at the lab."

"No nothing like that." Temperance lowered her eyes. "This was more along the lines of a psychological experiment."

"But you think psychology is a soft science."

"I know. That's why I haven't been forthcoming."

"I'll say. If Sweets could only hear you now." Angela chuckled, pulling her hair into a pony tail.

"Don't Ange." Her eyes flashed something fierce. "Please don't tell anyone about this. I feel so foolish."

Angela smiled. "Sweetie, don't worry. This will stay between us."

Temperance nodded and took a deep breath. Her shoulder was still rather numb, but she could feel a faint pressure. Her whole body felt oddly disconnected from her mind. She knew it was the pain meds, yet she still felt anxious. As soon as the discomfort became bearable, she would discontinue the drugs. She didn't like to dull her senses.

"Well, I came home early because I couldn't concentrate. And I needed to test a theory under normal circumstances."

"Okay, yes, the jungle is far from normal."

"That's correct. I needed to come back to D. C. to test a theory."

"And this theory was?" Angela raised her eyebrows.

"That I could make it on my own for two months."

"Make it on your own? You mean without Booth?"

Temperance didn't answer. Her eyes watered at the mention of her partner. She figured the tenderness in her upper respiratory tract was due to the enclosed environment of the hospital and possibly after effects of the anesthesia from her surgery. The truth could prove far too simple.

Angela brought her back to Earth. "So did this experiment work?"

"It yielded inconclusive results at best." She dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

"Conditions weren't normal, Sweetie. You were alone."

"I did spend some time with Parker."

The next few moments were filled with a pensive silence. Neither girl noticed Booth standing just outside the doorway. Angela cleared her throat and smiled at her friend. "I was really worried about you. Booth called and – "

"Booth called and what?" he strode into the room with two cups of pudding.

"I am going home in the morning." Temperance turned her attention toward her partner.

He sat in the nearest chair. "Only if the doc okays it."

She huffed and crossed her arms, her breath catching a little as she felt the bandage pull at her skin. She knew he was right. She wasn't one leave the hospital without first being discharged properly, unless she had a good reason, of course. And her biggest reason to do anything sat across the room devouring a cup of pudding with total abandon.


	30. Failed Attempt

**Thank you so much for reading. I'd love to know what you think.**

**Disclaimer: Bones does not belong to me. If it did, we'd have a better promo for next week!**

"Did you save any of that pudding for me?" Temperance grinned.

"Wha – yea." He licked his spoon and handed her what was left of the vanilla mixture.

She laughed. "No you keep it. I'll get my own later."

Now that she was awake, Booth found conversation difficult. All that had passed between them was complicated and tough to process. He wasn't sure where they stood. Right then, he didn't want to push too hard. Yet after what he'd just overheard, he wanted to get to the bottom of her secret.

"Bones, can I ask you something?" They were alone for the first time all afternoon. Angela had left to give the rest of the team an update.

"Sure Booth, why so formal? Just ask."

"I uh I overheard something." He dipped his head a bit. "Something maybe not meant for me."

He paused at the stunned look on her face. It didn't take her long to recover, but her eyes made him stop altogether. What passed beneath them took his breath away. He wanted answers, but he would follow her lead – for now. Temperance surprised him by pushing full steam ahead.

"My experiment failed."

"No, you just don't like the results."

"There is no _like_ in science."

"This isn't science, Bones."

"Everything is science, Booth."

"You're wrong."

She ignored him.

"My theory was I could function without you."

"What is your definition of function?" He played her game.

She lowered her eyes.

"You're experimenting on me, Bones."

"You're not just an experiment, Booth."

"That's not how it looks from here." He breathed through his nose in a concerted effort to calm himself.

She smoothed the strap of her sling. He wondered if she was in pain, but he didn't stop the argument.

"Why didn't you tell me you came back?"

"Notifying you would negate my hypothesis." She paused. "I was working under the condition that you did not exist."

He cringed at her words, yet he knew she was protecting herself by retreating into her world. Science and logic could be cold and hard, and there were clearly stated rules. He knew she didn't mean it.

Booth scooted his chair closer to her.

"But you hung out with my kid, Bones." He grinned at her, his big brown eyes as open as his heart.

"I don't see how that's relevant." She tried her hardest to avoid his gaze, her resolve cracking.

He thought she might squirm out of her IV and run for the door.

"Without me, Bones, Parker wouldn't exist." His finger on her chin, he turned her face to his.

_He got her._

/./././././

His phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the moment. He slid his chair backwards and fished out the intruding device, checking the screen for a caller id.

"I gotta take this, Bones." Booth slipped away from her and flipped open his phone. "Hey Hodgins, what have you got for me."

"A partially decomposed hand was found in Rock Creek Park about two weeks ago. They haven't been able to identify the owner using fingerprints." The scientist paused. Booth could hear him shuffling some papers before he continued. "The only possible identifying information was two rings on the fingers."

"Rings?" Booth dug into his pocket for a small notepad he kept with him.

"Yea a high school class ring and a pretty nice garnet stone with a platinum band."

Booth nodded, running his free hand through his hair. "The class ring should give us something to go on."

"Angela is looking into that for me now."

"I thought she was just here."

"She has her laptop down in the lobby. Work never stops, ya know."

"Thanks Hodgins."

"Any word on who shot Dr. B?" The tone of his voice told Booth that Hodgins knew this was a loaded subject.

It took him a few seconds to answer, the question a jolt to his system. He felt the pudding gurgling in his stomach.

"No word." He glanced in his partner's direction. "I'll have to get back to you on that one. Let me know if you have any luck with the class ring."

/././././

Temperance craned her neck as far as she could.

"I heard you say something about finding human remains?"

He ignored her and stepped out of the room.

"I'm not blind or deaf, Booth. I've been shot in the shoulder."

She could see him standing in the hallway, phone against his ear. His words only a mumble. Though exhaustion made her sink back against her pillow, curiosity kept her senses peaked. She listened for his voice, trying to catch any clips of phrases. She could tell by the expression on his face that he thought this call had something to do with their current case.

The probability of those human remains being Katie Jones was rather low, but something nagged at Temperance. She had this irrational feeling that the arm did belong to the missing girl. There was no explaining this train of thought. She couldn't let clutter her mind. It was useless to pursue something as fanciful as a gut feeling.

She wanted to get out of this bed and go to the lab. That's where things made sense. To be the first to examine those remains and extract whatever information she could. She longed for the comfort of the Jeffersonian, the sights and sounds of her team working together for a common goal. The confusion and pain of the last day was unnerving, and she fought against a rising panic.

Her shoulder throbbed, but she refused to ask for more pain meds. She gritted her teeth and called for Booth. Maybe it was the tone of her voice, but he popped his head into her room again. He stopped mid-conversation and strode to her side, reaching for her hand. He closed his cell phone.

"You okay Bones?"

Temperance was just about to answer when Angela entered the room, balancing an armful of magazines and what looked like fruit smoothies. Booth grabbed what he could, and then retreated to his own corner.

"I found a Time magazine in the waiting room and two archaeology magazines in the gift shop. Plus the coffee cart makes these great fruit smoothies." Angela made herself at home again.

Booth watched the two women, amused and content. The change in conversation had wiped the frustration from his partner's face at least for the moment. Angela rattled on about retrieving more clothes from Temperance's apartment. She couldn't have her best friend wandering around the hospital with her ass showing. He grinned at this, remembering the briefest glimpse of pink panties from their excursion earlier in the day. He caught her gaze and knew she remembered too. They both looked away, not ready to deal with those emotions.

After about ten minutes of idle chatter, she'd had enough. Booth had taken up position in the chair by the windows; she noted his eyes were closed. Angela sat next to her leafing through the magazines making comments about the stylistic elements of the photos. It was all a blur to her. Temperance wanted to talk about Katie.

"I want to talk about the case."

She pushed herself to a sitting position, the hint of a grimace crossed her face. Booth sprang up and crossed the room in a single stride.

"No." His face matching the firmness of his voice.

She pursed her lips and closed her eyes, gaining the strength to fight him with a deep breath.

"I'm fine." She positioned herself so the IV line wouldn't tug on her arm. "And Cam needs us to solve this case in a prompt fashion."

"Yes, Cam does." He reached for her but didn't touch her. "But you need to rest."

"I'm lying in a bed, Booth. I think that's resting." She half crossed her arms with some effort. The motion obviously stressed her wound and pulled on the IV. "Furthermore, my mind doesn't need resting. It was my body that was injured."

Booth frowned and returned to his seat. He was exhausted. As he slid into the chair, he sighed loudly. Angela took this as her cue.

"Sweetie," She walked to the bedside. "I think what Booth is trying to say is that we're all worried about you. We love you."

"That's not relevant to solving the case, Ange."

Angela squeezed her friend's hand. "No, it isn't. But not everything is about solving cases."


	31. Fine Enough

"I have an agent assigned to her room and one at the hospital entrance. There will be two stationed outside of her apartment. When she goes back to work, we'll have a detail at the Jeffersonian. Does that sound like enough coverage to you?" Assistant Deputy Director Andrew Hacker looked annoyed. He knew nothing would be enough for Agent Booth.

Booth looked down, knowing he'd been an ass to his boss. He didn't care in this moment. His only concern was the safety of his partner.

He didn't know who shot her or why. He had listened to the authorities telling him that this was a random gang-related shooting, through gritted teeth. She was caught in the crossfire, an innocent bystander. He didn't buy it for a minute. There had been no other incidences of violence in that neighborhood.

"Thank you, sir." He half-looked at Hacker.

"Sir?" Hacker shook his head. "You're calling me sir? This must be bad." He put his hands on his hips. "Come on, Booth. You know how I feel about Temperance. I don't want anything to-"

Booth cut him off. "Then let me do this my way."

Hacker nodded. "With a little help from me, please?"

Booth accepted the help he was given; though his gut told him it wouldn't be enough.

/././././

"I have to go home tonight, Bones." Booth paced the room. "Take a shower. Change clothes."

"Another night in that chair could surely negatively affect your alignment. You need to take care of your back. I'm quite alright here, Booth. I heard you talking to Andrew in the hallway. I'm in good hands." She shifted under the covers. "Ange said she'd stay with me, but I declined her offer."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes quite sure. I'm not a child who needs constant reassurance, Booth."

He closed his eyes and turned toward the windows. She noticed he hadn't touched the pudding Hodgins had commandeered from the cafeteria. She slid it to the edge of her tray.

"You haven't touched your pudding."

"Not hungry right now, Bones."

She cast her eyes to her hands, picking at a fingernail. She'd been freed from her IV an hour earlier. Tomorrow, she'd be released if her fever didn't return and her pain levels remained low.

"Booth." Her voice almost a whisper. "There's a subject we've been avoiding."

"Yea Bones."

She continued. "As an alpha male, I imagine you are feeling some level of guilt, anger and –"

"Bones stop."

"Don't you want to discuss –"

"No, I don't." Booth moved closer to the bed. "I'm fine."

"You just told me I don't mean it when I say I'm fine."

"Yea, so? Not the same thing."

"So you are applying a double standard here?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing." He opened a vanilla pudding cup. "Now, here, eat your pudding."

She folded her arms.

"Don't make me feed you, Bones." She ignored him. "I can do a mean airplane."

He demonstrated with a spoonful of the pudding, buzzing and zooming in front of her face. It didn't take long for a slip of a smile to crack open her face.

"See, Bones, it's so much better if you leave the worrying to me."

/./././././

Temperance slept though the night which was odd for being in a hospital. The nurses tiptoed in and out of her room, secretly hoping to find her awake so they could get an autograph before she left. She'd be discharged after rounds in the morning.

She hadn't asked who shot her, though the thought did cross her mind. Right now, she focused on getting home. The rest she could work out once she was on her own turf. She knew Booth was worried. The presence of the agent outside her room spoke volumes. People were concerned enough to provide her with a level of protection.

She willed the pain to decrease in intensity, so she could stop taking the meds that clouded her mind. She wanted to be involved in solving this puzzle. After all, she was the main player. Sitting up, she arched her back in a slow stretch, careful not to move too quickly. Stinging tentacles wound their way through her torso, radiating out from her shoulder. Temperance bit her lip to keep from crying out.

The sling lay on the nightstand next to her bed. She debated leaving it there, not thinking it would be necessary for a quick trip to the restroom. She changed her mind once she eased herself off the bed and stood up. Immediately, it felt like she had a bowling ball attached to her arm. She couldn't hold her arm up and it hurt like hell. Wincing, she picked up the sling, cradling her sore arm. Tears flooded her eyes.

"Oh honey, let me help you." The nurse managed to step into the room at just the right time. "You really shouldn't be up without help."

"I'm going home today." Temperance felt like a scolded child.

"I know, but you will have help, right?"

"Yes, I will." She wasn't sure.

"There." The nurse smoothed the straps and helped Temperance stand again. "That's better."

"Thank you." She headed for the bathroom.

"Would you like some assistance, Dr. Brennan?"

She shook her head and continued on, the ten feet a mile and a half to her wobbly legs. "No thank you, I'm fine."

"I'm right here if you need me." The nurse opened the blinds. "I'll wait out here for you to finish."

Now Temperance really felt like a child. She was not accustomed to people waiting on her for anything except lab results. At the mercy of others, she felt out of control, unsteady. She couldn't focus on anything except taking each step, one by one. She'd never felt so out of breath, so weak.

"Thank you, but I'll be fine." She shut the door behind her. Temperance was becoming proficient at lying.

/./././

She stood in front of the mirror, the closed door only letting muffled sounds into the bathroom. She felt like she was breaking the rules, doing something forbidden. Carefully, she unbuttoned her pajama shirt, and lifting the soft cotton away from her skin, she surveyed the damage.

Bandages held everything in place. Blood had seeped through the gauze. The dressing would be replaced at the shift change. Part of her was afraid to see what lay beneath.

She knew what it would look like. She'd seen flesh decimated by bullets in her work with Booth. She'd probed the recesses with gloved fingers, cataloged bone shards and analyzed every inch with a microscope. She was no stranger to the devastation.

_Except this time it was different. _A knock on the door startled her.

"Dr. Brennan?" The nurse opened the door just a crack. Temperance wished the hospital had locks on its doors.

She quickly closed her shirt and turned toward the door, "I'm coming."

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay in here." The nurse pushed the door wider.

"Thank you. I'm fine."

The nurse guided her back to bed. "You should rest. Don't want you over-exerting yourself right before you're discharged. Could mean another night here."

Temperance took this as a threat, which she would take very seriously. She did not, under any circumstances, want to spend another night in this hospital. She wanted her own bed, her own food. She wanted to work on the case, and she would do anything to get out of here short of stealing a pair of crutches.

/./././././


	32. Mood Shifting

Booth was out of bed with the dawn. He stared at the pile of mail in front of him. Payday was at the end of the week, so the bills would wait until then. They had little meaning to him anyway. The need to solve this puzzle buzzed inside his head.

He felt like he should have the answer. Like it was right in front of him, and he just couldn't see it. He pounded his fists on the table, scattering the mail and splashing coffee on himself. In disgust, he jumped up and headed to the sink to dry his shirt. He didn't have time to change; he hoped he looked presentable.

Booth wasn't a gambling man – not anymore. But the old urge was there, setting up scenarios in his mind. His money was on the personal angle, someone from their past. He wished he could tap into that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach and strangle it until it told him who had shot his partner.

Grabbing his keys and a duffel bag packed with extra clothes, he left his apartment. He really needed to get his gun back from Cam. He felt absolutely naked without it. _But what did he have to fear?_ He stopped in the hallway, the walls suddenly spinning. Controlling his breath, Booth brought himself back to Earth.

The drive to the hospital took no time at all. He marveled at the lack of traffic. It was like Moses parting the Red Sea. This thought unnerved him a little – he wasn't planning on going into battle or fleeing from the enemy. He was simply taking Temperance home.

He wasn't sure what the next few days would hold. A lot of arguing and confrontation, he was sure. She would not take easily to rest and relaxation. He would do his best to prevent her from going back to work for at least a week. He had already enlisted the help of Angela and Cam.

He eased into the closest parking spot he could find, tempted to use his federal credentials to snag a handicapped spot. He couldn't do that, his conscience always winning. The building loomed in front of him and he thought briefly about the last time he had entered. Looking at his hands, for a split second he could still see her blood.

/./././

"I'm not an invalid, Booth. I'd like to walk out of here on my own."

"Hospital policy." He glared at her.

Temperance had been nothing but testy since he walked into her room. Now as they were inches close to heading home, she was throwing a most unusual fit. She stood next to her bed with her arms crossed, feet planted.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan. It is policy." A nurse intervened. She pushed the wheelchair into the room. "Now why don't you let this nice young man escort you out of here?"

She wasn't happy about it; anyone could tell that, but she acquiesced quite easily. She fell into the chair with an exaggerated sigh, no longer making eye contact with Booth.

"Thank you." He whispered near her ear. He'd never seen Temperance this angry with him, and he didn't have a clue what he'd done to upset her. _How would he convince her to let him spend the night?_ He couldn't let her out of his sight until he figured out who shot her and why. Right now, he'd be lucky to make it down to the SUV alive.

He regretted telling Angela it was alright to throw an impromptu "welcome home" lunch at the apartment. He thought about calling it off when he sent her a text to let her know they were leaving. Instead, he closed his phone and decided to wait until they were situated in his vehicle. Maybe her mood would lighten once she got some fresh air.

The hospital staff waved good bye and murmured thank yous for their autographs. Temperance had been kind enough to sign a bunch of books. Booth wasn't sure what had shifted her mood. Part of him knew her sudden aggravation was due to what lay ahead. The real world would not be as insulated as this hospital. He would try to make her stay away from the lab at least a week, but he knew the effort was futile. He'd be lucky if he got a couple days.

The elevator doors closed, and the pair was alone.

"I'm sorry Booth."

His mouth fell open. He didn't know if he could keep up with her shifting mood.

"I don't know what came over me."

He couldn't respond. He felt like there was no air in his lungs. Like his vocal cords were tied in knots. He must have been making some kind of sound because the look on her face changed from apologetic to worried.

"Are you okay?"

Booth nodded.

"Well say something then." She grabbed the cuff of his jacket.

"Something then."

Temperance closed her eyes and smiled.

/././././

"I don't really think Dr. B is into surprise parties." Hodgins straightened a large banner which was drooping over the kitchen archway.

"And how would you know?" Angela stopped rummaging through her bag of party supplies.

"Oh, touchy." He hopped the step ladder.

"Yea if you spent half the morning puking your guts out you might be touchy too." She handed him a ribbon. "Here, make this curly. I want to add an accent to the banner."

He did as he was told, but with a proud smile. He still couldn't believe they were going to have a baby. _He did this to her_, he chuckled to himself.

"I see you over there gloating."

"No baby, I'm not gloating. I'm marveling."

Angela rolled her eyes. "You're marveling at puke?"

He set the scissors on the table and slid his arms around her waist.

"You are my marvel."

"I'm sure you mean that in a good way, but from here –"

He silenced her with a quick peck on the lips.

"I love you pregnancy puke and all."

"You better." She took the ribbons, now coiled colorful springs. "You did this to me."

Hodgins couldn't help but grin.


	33. Lilies & Bubblegum

_**This one is for Urja. **__** A present for the long weekend. **_

_**This chapter is a mish mosh of Brennan's homecoming. Hope you like it.**_

_**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Bones, only borrowing! **_

"Before we go in here." Booth stopped her about ten feet from the door. "I have to warn you."

"Warn me about what? It's my apartment." She reached to grab her bag from him. He swatted at her hand.

"There are people in there waiting for you."

"Police waiting to question me?"

"No nothing like that."

"Then what, Booth?" She leaned against the wall.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the floor.

"Your friends wanted to surprise you."

"Surprise me?"

"With a little welcome home party." He shrugged and gave her a shy smile, trying to judge her response.

Temperance closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Booth squeezed her hand.

The warmth of him startled her a little and she tensed. A twinge of pain shot down her arm.

"Your friends care about you. I promise to keep it short."

/./././././

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Cam stood at the table, dipping a carrot in ranch dressing.

"I wondered the same thing." Hodgins stepped away from Angela just as she reached to pinch him. She got him anyway. "Ouch!"

"Nice job on the decorations, Angela." Cam surveyed the room, putting some distance between herself and the lovebirds.

"Hey." Hodgins held his hand up to stop. "I think I hear them in the hall."

"Well, I guess we'll get our answer now, won't we?" Cam took a sip of her tea and set the glass on a coaster.

Angela frowned. "Sweets isn't here yet."

"Now is that really a loss?" Her husband grinned. She punched his arm.

The three of them laughed, not hearing the exaggerated jingle of keys. The door opened, startling the trio.

"Come on, isn't this supposed to be a surprise?" Booth followed Temperance into the apartment. She showed no sign of disappointment. Instead, her face lit up at the sight of her gathered friends. They circled around giving awkward hugs, all doing their best to avoid her wounded shoulder.

"Wow." She twirled around. Booth did his best to make sure she didn't collide with anything or fall. "You've quite outdone yourselves. Thank you."

Mouths fell open across the room. Nobody knew what to say.

"I'm quite hungry actually. Thank you Angela."

Angela looked stunned. To make matters worse, Temperance leaned forward and gave her friend the best hug she could with one arm.

"I'm glad you like it Sweetie. Some people thought–" She nudged her husband.

"Well, normally, I might have declined such an invitation, but the pain medication I've been prescribed requires that I consume food when I take it."

Angela shot Booth a look. He shrugged and grabbed a plate. "Thanks Ange."

Booth helped Temperance manage the buffet on the table. She was quite pliable at the moment and allowed him to fill her plate. They didn't notice Sweets make his entrance. The psychologist stood back, watching the pair before making his presence known. Then Hodgins swept him into a vague conversation about pregnancy and mental status.

/././././

Booth leaned against the kitchen counter, drink in hand and concerned look coloring his face. Sweets stood next to him, doing his best to help. He listened as Booth relayed the day's events, offering his advice where he could.

"It's perfectly normal to experience some level of mood variation after a traumatic event."

Booth caught sight of Temperance heading their direction.

"Aw geez, Sweets, this is supposed to be a welcome home party, not a session."

Sweets nodded and put his hands in his pockets, looking down, he added, "I see what you did there Agent Booth. I get it."

He walked away, leaving the two alone.

"What was that all about, Booth?" Temperance grabbed his glass and took a sip.

"Nothing, just Sweets trying to give unsolicited advice."

/././././

"No work talk, Dr. B." Hodgins crossed his arms over his chest.

"But I was only."

"Nope, under strict orders." He shook his head.

"From Cam?" She motioned toward their boss.

"No these are a different kind of orders." He smiled.

"I don't know what that means."

"Means they answer to me." Booth materialized.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips.

"And I say the party's over." He winked at her. "I think we've all had enough and someone needs a nap."

Hodgins stifled a giggle. Temperance was not amused.

"I am not an infant, Booth." She shoved him.

"Like I said – naptime for you, Bones."

Everyone began piling dishes into the sink and tucking veggie trays under wraps. Cam was the last to go.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Yes, I know what I'm doing. I'm taking care of my partner."

"I hope you're right, Seeley. I don't want to see either of you get hurt."

/./././././

"You mean you pay the cable bill, but you don't watch TV?"

"That's right, Booth. The television is in the closet." She pointed to the front corner of the room. "You're welcome to plug it in. I'm sure you can find something to watch. I'm going to my office for a few hours."

"Whoa, no," Booth kept her from getting up from the couch, "The Squints will take care of the case."

"I will not sit at home and do nothing." Temperance held her ground. "I refuse to be useless."

"You are not useless."

"But I- "

"They'll send you their findings once they finish the analysis."

"Let me up, Booth. I could still get some work done. I've been gone for two days."

"You need your rest." He pried her keys from her fingers. "And I'm gonna see that you get it."

"You can't stay here."

"Why not? You have a nice couch. I've slept on it before."

"It aggravates your back."

She closed her eyes and took a slow breath. Pain evident on her face.

"See, I told you." He took her handbag and set it on the coffee table. "You need to rest."

"You can't watch me all the time."

"Sure I can."

"Then neither of us will sleep."

"I'm not leaving, Bones." He made himself comfortable on the couch.

/././././

Booth cradled her in his arms. The TV buzzed in the background, but he didn't hear it. He'd stopped watching long ago. Temperance had fallen asleep against him on the couch, her body molded into his. Afraid to wake her, he maintained his position.

They couldn't stay this way all night. His back ached and he couldn't let her sleep on the couch in her condition. He'd promised Angela he'd take good care of her. He shifted a little, wondering if he should wake her now or prepare her bed. Before he could make up his mind, she made the first move, albeit a sleepy one.

"Sleep with me, Booth. I'm scared."

He lifted her, ever so careful to avoid jostling her injury. She clung to him, never complaining. Her eyes anchored him to reality. Maybe it was the pain meds and the stress of the last two days, but she looked haunted.

"I've been having nightmares."

Nightmares, he knew all about those. Most of his involved her or Parker and the horrible ways life could separate you from the ones you loved. He lay beside her, and she moved closer to him. She smelled like lilies and bubble gum, an odd combination. He was still thinking about this combo when she kissed his cheek.

"Thank you." She sighed and settled into the covers.

He closed his eyes, intending to head for the couch as soon as she drifted off. When he opened his eyes again, she was gone and light seeped through the blinds. He listened, hearing water running somewhere. Stretching, Booth sat up and ran his hands through his hair.

"Bones?"

She appeared in the doorway, wearing her robe. He thought about her pink panties.

"You were in bed with me." She pulled the robe tighter.

"You asked me." He pushed himself up from the bed and approached her.

"Yes, I guess I did. I hope you didn't mind." Temperance held out her hand, and he took it.

"Anything for you, Bones."


	34. Weak Specimen

Temperance stayed away from the lab for considerably less than a week. Booth followed her onto the platform the next morning, scowl stretched across his face. She was a little slow in her movements, but otherwise, she seemed like her old self.

"Dr. B, fancy seeing you here." Hodgins called to her, long and exaggerated. "So happy to see you back."

"Can it, Hodgins." Booth pushed past him.

She leaned over the exam table. The desiccated arm lay there looking rather ghoulish under the lights. She half expected it to move. Thoughts of Frankenstein ran through her mind. She shook off the image and studied the specimen and corresponding X-rays, grabbing a pair of gloves.

"We need to remove the flesh, but I can tell a few things. Female. Mid 20s." Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes, her breath measured.

"Dr. B?" Hodgins moved in closer, not sure if he should touch her. He shot Booth a quick glance.

"Bones?" Booth touched her arm. "You in there?"

She blinked and took a step back. "The rings. Has Angela identified the rings?"

"Rings? How did you know?" Booth asked.

"I told you. It was my shoulder that was injured, not my ears. I heard you on the phone."

Booth nudged Hodgins. "Uh, yea. Angela did identify the rings."

"Well?" She got in his face.

"Uh, you'll have to go ask her." Hodgins was a little off-balance.

"Oh, okay then." She marched off the platform.

Booth shook his head. "Sorry Hodgins. First day back and all."

"No sweat man."

/./././././

"It was not random or gang violence." Booth paced in Cam's office.

"I'm repeating what Metro told me." She held her place at her desk.

She'd seen Seeley Booth angry before, but not like this. If he didn't stay in motion, she was sure he would explode.

"Why didn't you tell me she came back early?" Booth slammed his hands on her desk.

She half shrugged, not fazed by his behavior. "She's only been back a week. You just never came up in conversation."

"She's been back in DC for over two months, Cam." He leaned on her desk.

"Oh." Cam was lost for words.

He wilted into the nearest chair, defeated and exhausted.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"Do what Seeley?"

He avoided her eyes, shaking his head.

"I'm in love with her."

"Tell me something I don't know." She walked around her desk and stood beside him.

Head in his hands, Booth prayed he could hold back his tears. He stifled a shudder and looked directly into the fluorescent lighting, hoping the old trick would work. He succeeded in blinding himself, but the tears weren't deterred. Cam handed him a tissue, but he used the cuff of his jacket instead.

"You're under a lot of pressure, Booth." She squeezed his arm. "It's understandable. Go home and get some sleep."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she gave him one of those looks that told him she was in charge of this situation. He closed his eyes and took a long slow breath.

"I'll make sure she doesn't stay here all night. I'll have Hodgins drive her home. Isn't Angela staying with her tonight?" She searched his eyes for his compliance.

Booth nodded and headed for Bones' office.

/././././././

Temperance again stood on the platform, determined to regain her bearings. She didn't see Booth approach. Hodgins read over what they'd found out so far.

"Nothing under the fingernails. No defensive wounds." He flipped through a report as she surveyed the specimen.

"The wrist bones appear to have been wrenched apart. Most likely scavengers." She took a closer look.

"So where is the rest of the body?" Booth broke into the conversation.

"I don't like to speculate." She noted the exasperated look beginning to puddle on his face. "I don't like to speculate, but I'll say this. The rest of the body was possibly carried away by animals or washed away." She paused and adjusted her top collar button. "The FBI should search the area downstream from this location."

She pointed to the place on the map where the hand had been found. He noticed her unbutton another button and play with the strap of her sling.

"Dr. Hodgins, would you check the water current patterns for Rock Creek? And check also for any unusual weather events since Katie was reported missing."

Booth moved around the table. Engrossed in her examination of the remains, she didn't see him. Hodgins began to read from the report again.

"From the lack of hemorrhaging, the wrist was separated after death. Some of the fingernails are missing. Cam took fingerprints. Katie should have been fingerprinted for her job with the Senator."

Temperance nodded, turning her attention to the small plastic bag containing the two rings. A frown flooded her face.

"These are the most compelling pieces of evidence we have right now, Booth. It's out of my hands until we get the go ahead from Cam to remove the flesh."

"I'll take those." Angela startled them. She grabbed the rings.

"This sapphire ring is quite distinctive with the etching on the band. I'm checking local jewelry shops. The other ring wasn't hard to find." She read from the ring. "Whitmore High School baseball champs. Class of 2003. They were only issued for the team. The school is sending me a list. Here I will make a note that Katie Jones attended Whitmore High School as a member of the Class of 2003."

She realized the pair was no longer paying attention to her. "Okay then. I'll take care of this and leave you two to do what ever it is you're about to do."

Angela grabbed Hodgins and left the platform.

Booth stood behind Temperance, looking over her shoulder. His eyes fell to her waist and he realized his hand was resting there. _How funny the way they touched one another without knowing._ Self conscious, he stuffed both hands into his pockets. He felt his cheeks flush and he cleared his throat. She turned around and they were nose to nose.

"Has there been any criminal activity?"

He found he was incapable of speech. All he could see, think, hear was her and the sheer closeness of her paralyzed him.

"In the park. Did you check?" She almost whispered.

Booth closed his eyes. He didn't kiss her, even though every cell in his body screamed at him. He brushed his cheek against hers. Unaware of anything around him, he slipped his arms around her. She sighed and stepped into his embrace without hesitation.

"Let me take you home." He breathed into her ear.

He felt her shiver at those words and then she relaxed further into him. Temperance nodded. He took her hand and led her to the parking lot, aware they were being watched by Hodgins and Angela.


	35. Not Ready

"Caroline just gave me a positive id on the remains. So tomorrow, we'll drop by the Senator's office. Have a little chat." He sank into her couch, arms folded behind his head.

"Booth, why are you still here?"

Temperance stared at him over the top of the case file.

"I'm still here because we're working on this case."

"No, I mean, why are you still here in my apartment? We normally part ways at the end of the day, maybe wind down with a drink." She set everything beside her. "For the second night, you are sitting on my couch and it's after ten o'clock."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

She looked away from him.

"No, I have to admit I – I rather enjoy your company." She picked up the folder again and flipped through the pages. "You help me feel safe."

"I help you feel safe?" He leaned toward her with the biggest grin.

"Your very presence is rather calming."

"And what about when you wake up beside me."

"In bed." Temperance finished his sentence. She'd been thinking waking up next to him all day. His warmth beside her, his soft breathing. The serene look on his face. She didn't see that often.

"In bed." His smile faded to the most intense stare. She looked down at the cushions.

"I don't know what that means. I really don't know. I mean for –" She didn't realize how shaky her voice had become. His eyes softened.

"Us?" He reached for her knee.

She grabbed his hand and held it.

"Booth, I'm not ready for a discussion."

He watched her face turn to stone and he took his hand from hers. She was right; he knew. It was all a jumbled mess at the moment, too close to a traumatic event and in the middle of a frustrating case. All hampered by her injury.

"I know, Bones. That's okay."

/././././

Booth slept with her again, and this time there was no formality. They were both so exhausted; they just fell into bed. He slipped under the covers, drawn by the warmth of her skin, tensing when her hand found its way to his chest.

"Hold me, Booth."

Those words surprised him. He'd never expected to hear them from her. He obeyed and slid closer to her, hoping his erection wouldn't give him away. He kissed her head, as Temperance snuggled against him.

He lay there for a long while, reciting any prayer he could remember. Somehow, he fell asleep, but not until well after midnight. This time, when he woke in the morning, his partner was still lying beside him, her body pressed against his, softly breathing. He closed his eyes and just soaked in the moment, not knowing when it might come again.

Temperance stirred and rolled away from him. She opened her eyes and regarded him with a mixture of surprise and something else he couldn't place. She smiled, though, after a few seconds, reaching for his arm.

"Good morning, Booth."

"Good morning, Bones."

/././././

"You are not coming with me. You need your rest."

The pair sat at her kitchen table, newspaper and cups of coffee spread in front of them.

"Yes, I am, Booth." She shoved a bowl of fruit his direction. "Interrogating a Senator does not require much physical exertion. I can handle it."

"I bet you can."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He stabbed a grape with his fork. "You don't have a great track record with Senators."

She laughed and tilted her head, lowering her eyes and nodding. "Yes, I will admit you are correct."

His mouth fell open mid grape. Her eyes twinkled with the best smile he'd ever seen.

"Yes, Booth, I am agreeing with you. Chew your food before you choke on it."

Temperance never failed to amaze him.

/./././

Booth stood in the doorway to Cam's office. The Jeffersonian was quiet this morning. No interns were bustling about, and Angela and Hodgins were absent as well.

"I trust you slept well last night."

"What's that supposed to mean, Camille?"

She half smiled. "Only what you take from it, Seeley. Don't call me Camille."

"Don't call me Seeley."

She looked down at the paperwork on her desk. He knew she was at a dead end with the case. She'd given Temperance and her team permission to remove the flesh from the remains. There wasn't much for her to do this morning except wait.

"I have a couple leads, Cam."

"Good. At least you have something."

He kicked the doorframe. "I spent the night again."

"And?"

"And what?"

He kicked the doorframe again.

"What are the leads you mentioned?"

"I have three possibles from the ring list. I'm bringing them in for interviews later today."

"What about the Senator?"

"I'm waiting on a call."

"Okay." Cam pushed away from her desk. "We'll take what we can get for now."

"Yes, we will."

He left her office without another word and went to find Temperance. The platform was deserted, so he checked her office. He found her at her desk, head propped on her hand, eyes closed. Booth smiled, not wanting to disturb her, but he couldn't resist.

"Bones." He whispered, his lips ever so close to her ear.

Her eyes fluttered open and she stifled a yawn. He restrained himself and didn't comment. Instead, he launched right into the casework.

"We've got three possibles out of the 13 team rings." Booth checked over his list. "The rest have been ruled out. Though I do want to bring in this guy for an interview."

He pointed to a name on the sheet and Temperance nodded.

"The accident destroyed any possibility Jeff Roth would play professional sports."

"I have this feeling Katie was somehow involved."

"She was in the vehicle."

"Wait, how do you know that?"

"Says right here."

"Wasn't on the official police report."

She held up a faded sheet of paper.

"Where did you get that?"

"It was a note in the file for Katie Jones." She scanned the page. "Looks like an interview with the first deputy on the scene."

Booth read over her shoulder. He wondered how he'd missed it. "The same deputy who happened to be Katie's uncle."

"So why did no one else make this connection?" She tucked the note back into the file.

"Maybe it was covered up. Let's get Jeff Roth. I'll feel better after I have a chat with him."

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Booth." He spun around and left the room.

Only her eyes followed him. The high of coming back to the office had worn off, and Temperance longed for a quick nap on her couch. No harm in that. Studies had shown twenty minute naps were beneficial. She knew this. Whether or not Booth was correct about her needing rest was irrelevant.

He reappeared, his presence like a weight to her sleepy thoughts, dropping them like an anchor.

"The Senator has an opening in about an hour. Let's head over there now."

/././

Temperance reclined the seat just a bit. She found it impossible to be comfortable. Every position hurt her shoulder. Even the sling was annoying her today. Traffic was heavy, and Booth tapped the steering wheel with an impatience she found amusing. It was as if he thought his very determination could part the vehicles impeding their travel, his eyes focused like lasers ahead of them.

She closed her eyes and pictured his eyes, deep brown, warming her thoughts. Like hot chocolate on a winter day.

"Bones." He squeezed her hand. Her eyes popped open. "You were sleeping."

"No I wasn't." She sat straight up, pulling the sling a little too hard. "I was just resting my eyes."

He smiled. "No you were asleep. Talking even."

"I don't-" She stopped when she caught his smile.

He gave her another squeeze and then let go of her hand. "Sure you're up to this?"

"Why wouldn't I be, Booth?"

"Nothing Bones, just checking."

/./././

"I'm afraid the Senator can't be bothered right now. I do apologize, but something's come up. Pressing government business and all. The fate of the country-" The Senator's secretary sat behind a very large desk. He was dressed to the nines, manicure and all.

"But we had an-" Booth put his hand out to stop Temperance. The beginnings of a snarl crept across her face.

"We can wait." He looked over at the decorative chairs. He knew this game of cat and mouse well.

"I would advise against that. I'm afraid." The assistant tilted his head. "Might be awhile. You never know how long it might take to – work things out."

Booth shook his head.

"Well, is there anything you can tell us about Katie Jones?" He leaned into the desk a little.

"The Senator's aide was supposed to be on vacation for two weeks. When she didn't come back, we figured she'd bailed."

"The Senator goes through aides?"

"Let's just say he has a whole herd of them back in his hometown. Katie was the latest and greatest. Really thought she'd stay." The secretary smiled at Booth. "You can stay if you like. I'd love the company."

Temperance scanned the mail on the corner of the desk. The flirt didn't notice. He was too focused on Booth.

"He probably forced himself on her as a going away present. The Senator wasn't looking forward to her being on vacation. It was her first time off in over four months. Something's gotta give."

An overdue invoice for a jewelry store stuck out from the pile. She slid the paper just enough to get a better look.

"So does the Senator always have you purchase the jewelry for his mistresses?" Temperance broke into the conversation. Booth shot her an inquisitive look.

"And why would you ask that?" The secretary took a step back, visibly shaken by the question.

Booth followed her eyes to the pile of mail on the desk.

"This ring would be very difficult to afford on your salary." Temperance slid the paper further from the pile.

The assistant grabbed the stack of papers with a quick swipe. "Stay the hell out of my mail. Unless you have a warrant."

It was time to go.


	36. Bouncing Ball

"Yes, of course, I'm bitter. That accident ruined my life." Jeff Roth pushed his chair away from the table and looked at the floor. "But I don't blame Katie. She has nothing to do with this."

"She was in the car." Booth stared at him until he reestablished eye contact.

"How did you know that?"

"We know." Temperance leaned forward.

"So does this make me a suspect?"

"Ah direct, I like that." Booth smiled and shuffled his paperwork. "You are a person of interest, Mr. Roth."

"How can I be? I'm in a wheelchair."

"Physical impairment does not preclude one from being a murder suspect." Temperance jumped ahead of Booth.

"Wait, murder? Katie's dead?" Jeff could not hide his surprise.

Booth shot Temperance a sharp jab of a look. He cleared his throat and paused before answering.

"Yes, she's dead."

"I thought she was just missing. All these months." He wiped his eyes and sniffled. She handed him a tissue. He dabbed his face and stuffed the tissue into his pocket.

"Sorry for you to find out this way." Booth closed the file. "Is there anything we should know about Katie?"

"You should talk to Ken Raben. They dated for awhile during and after high school. She dumped him when things got out of hand."

"Out of hand how?" Temperance beat Booth to it again.

"He developed a little problem. Things turned violent."

Booth nodded and squeezed her leg, hoping to signal her to keep quiet. She got the hint.

"Thank you for your time. We'll be in touch if we have any more questions."

He showedJeff the door, pausing to wait for his partner.

"Ken Raben is on our list, as well as a Tim Raben." Temperance flipped through the file. "Looks like they're brothers."

"Twins." Booth shook his head.

/././

"Bones, you really should go home. I'll drive you, and then come back for the last interview." He reached for her. "You've been dragging all day."

"If by dragging you mean I'm exhausted, you are wrong." She stepped away from him. "I'm fine."

"There it is again."

She glared at him.

"You always say you're fine when you aren't."

"How could you know what I'm feeling, Booth. You aren't me. It's impossible to know what someone else is feeling."

He could sense he wasn't going to win this one.

"Then please just take a few minutes, rest your eyes."

Her expression softened. "Studies do show napping can be beneficial."

"I read that somewhere."

He hoped her mood swings would dissipate as she healed. He felt like he was bouncing off the walls to keep up with her.

"Maybe I'll sit out the Ken Raben interview."

This astonished Booth. Normally, she fought to be in the room with him.

"Okay, if that's what you want."

"I can use that time to go over my notes and the scans of Katie's hand and forearm."

"You really should take a nap, Bones."

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "Maybe after I review the evidence."

"I'll pick you up later. We'll have dinner."

She averted her eyes.

"What Bones?"

"I want to spend tonight alone."

"Ok. Are you sure?" He buried his disappointment under a practiced grin.

"Yes. Ange is coming for me." She grabbed his hand. "Thanks Booth."

"I'll miss you." His smile hesitant in its course across his face.

"I'll miss you too." She squeezed his hand, and he pulled her into a good old fashioned guy hug.

/./././

"So you and your brother played baseball for Whitmore High?"

"Sure, that's ancient history though. No more ball for the Raben boys. Life's funny that way." Ken sat across from Booth and picked his fingernails, flicking dirt on the table.

"Where is Tim these days?"

"Not sure. Somewhere in downtown DC. Chinatown or something. Haven't seen him for years."

"And why not? You're twins; aren't you close?"

"Once we were _unseperable_ or what ever. People joked we did _everything_ together back in the day. If you know what I mean."

"I see." Booth flipped open his notepad. "Why not now?"

"Oldest story in the book."

"Katie Jones."

Ken nodded. He opened the bottle of water sitting on the table in front of him.

"Tim dated her in high school off and on." He took a swig of the water. "More off than on."

"What about you?" Booth leaned across the table. "Word has it you dated her as well."

"Yea, I dated Katie. Bitch took my ring and tossed it."

"She threw your championship ring in the trash?"

"No, somewhere in the Potomac." He sipped from the water in front of him. "We broke up on one of those party boats. Real romantic. Or it was supposed to be."

"Let me see, you had too much to drink."

"Yea man, I have a problem. I didn't mean to hit her."

"You mean things normally weren't violent?"

"Nah, we would argue. Katie loved to drink too. She couldn't hold her liquor worth a damn though."

"On the night in question." Booth jotted a note. "What led to the fight?"

"She told me I had too much to drink. I was making a fool out of myself." He slowly twisted the cap on the water bottle. "She was more worried with how _she_ looked. Prissy bitch. Ever since her job with the Senator."

"It changed her. She thought she was better than you." Booth egged him on.

"That's right. She was all high and mighty about her image. So I slapped her." He pushed away from the table. "Then she threw my ring into the river. Just like that said we were done and walked away."

"Did you see her after that?"

"No, not that night or ever again."

"She didn't have any clothes at your place?"

"No, we were never like that. Katie kept things very separate. Especially once she moved to DC. I was just there for the night. I hoped I'd stay over, but didn't work out that way."

"Did you wait for her?"

"Yea, to apologize and see if she needed a ride home. I waited until everyone disembarked that boat, man. And nothing. Later she left me a voicemail. Said she hitched a ride home with someone from work. There were a lot of them preppy types on the boat."

"When was this cruise?"

"Some time last summer. July maybe. I was drinking so much then; I honestly don't remember."

"Well, Mr. Raben, thank you for coming in." Booth stood. "I'll be in touch if I need anything else from you."

"Is Katie dead?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"You wouldn't haul my ass in here if it wasn't serious. I've tried to call her for months. I don't want to leave things like that. I have to apologize."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Raben." Booth looked at the floor.

"So I don't get to apologize. Son of a bitch." Ken kicked the chair. "Bitch got the last word."

Booth held the door open.

"You won't mind if I take this with me?" Ken grabbed the water bottle on his way out. "I'm parched man."

Booth shook his head and watched Ken walk down the hall. Two interviews, and he wasn't sure where he stood with this case.

/././

He was surprised to find Temperance at the lab. He'd hoped for a chance to talk to Cam and even Hodgins about his partner. He worried about her and needed help keeping an eye on her. But there she stood, plain as day, on the platform, eyeballing something through the microscope. She hadn't been expecting him either. Her face dissolved into a pronounced frown.

"Booth."

"Hey Bones." He hoped to keep the conversation light.

"I didn't think you'd be back here. Ange is giving me a ride home."

"I know, Bones. I came to talk to Cam."

"Oh." She smoothed her lab coat. "Cam's gone for the day. She left with Michelle an hour ago."

He tried not to show his disappointment. Now he didn't have much reason to be here. His chatting with Hodgins might arouse suspicion, so he walked on to the platform and tried to appear interested in what she was doing. She backed away from the work table.

"I still don't know why you're here. You could talk to Cam on the phone."

"I didn't want to use the phone. I wanted to speak to her in person."

"Are you spying on me, Booth?"

He felt his cheeks flush. He didn't want to go down the road she was paving.

"No, Bones. Not spying on you." He noticed Hodgins and Angela walking up the steps and waved to them.

"Well, do you have anything useful to tell me?" She pulled off her gloves and tossed them into the nearest bin. "How'd the interview go with Ken Raben?"

"Fine, it went fine."

She crossed her arms. "You always tell me I don't mean it-"

"It went well then, Bones."

She shook her head and glared at him. He leveled his gaze and followed her lead, ready for whatever she wanted to dish out.

"What did you learn?"

"Katie Jones broke off the relationship with Ken Raben the summer before she disappeared. I need to confirm this with her coworkers. Mr. Raben stated he hadn't been in touch with Katie. He didn't know she was missing. He did mention his brother Tim lived downtown, somewhere in Chinatown. He hasn't seen him in years, though." He caught his breath.

"A needle in a hay bale." Bones shook her head.

"It's haystack, Bones." Booth ran his hand through his hair. "Isn't there some formula you can run and zing bang boom pop out an address?"

"Mathematical formulas do not make sounds. Booth."

Hodgins backed up a few paces, pulling Angela with him. Temperance glared at Booth and he didn't break eye contact as he approached her work station. He pounded his fist against the gurney. Tools clattered to the floor. He couldn't _not _look at her. He was confused, frustrated and angry, not to mention a little turned on.

The last few days had been a whirlwind of emotion for both of them. He didn't know what to think, and if he was having trouble processing things, she couldn't be faring much better. She might even be fooling herself.

"I'm sorry." He helped her pick up the mess he'd created. Their eyes met for a second; then hers darted away, focusing on the floor. It was then that he caught sight of her bandage under her blouse. A small spot of blood blossomed there like a little flower painted on the gauze.

"Bones, you're bleeding."

Her hand went straight for her wound, almost protecting it, shielding it from his view.

"I forgot to change the dressing. It's normal for there to be some post surgical bleeding."

"Especially if you over exert yourself."

"Booth, I don't want to have this argument again. I am fine." Her voice rose with the last sentence.

Angela moved between them. "Sweetie, it's time I took you home."

"Yes, Ange, I agree. There's nothing for me here."

Booth watched the two friends walk away from him. Hodgins followed at a distance, throwing a look of sympathy over his shoulder at him as he left the platform. Booth leaned against the work station, all the air sucked out of his world.


	37. Oh Baby

**_Thanks to Urja for her supreme editing skills! :-) And thanks to all of you for reading. I'd love to know what you think._**

"Okay, now that was weird." Angela adjusted her seat.

Hodgins continued to focus straight ahead. Traffic crawled in front of him. He let his wife do the talking.

"I don't know what's going on with them."

He didn't have an answer for her, preferred to stay out of it. Sure, he worried about his boss. Heck he considered her a friend; he just didn't want to gossip about her and Booth. The subject had been talked to death.

"Angie baby."

"Stop right now." Angela held up her hand. "Don't _Angie baby_ me. You saw them at the lab. And she didn't say a word on the way to her apartment."

"But baby."

"He slept at her place."

"Maybe they-" Hodgins glided into the turn lane and waited his turn.

"In her bed."

"Really?" He shot a glance her direction as he navigated the intersection.

"Twice!"

"Wow."

"Exactly."

He waited for her to continue but she just looked out the window. He didn't know what else to say. Booth and Temperance had a slumber party. Big deal. Yet it _was_ a big deal.

/././

Booth had one stop before he went home for the day. He didn't relish returning to his empty apartment. He would give Temperance space because it was what she wanted. For now, he had a meeting with Senator Lerhman.

The Founding Fathers was quite busy for the middle of the week. Perfect cover for their little chat. The Senator waved him over to a table near the bar. Booth was acutely aware of the presence of security for the popular public official. Never failed to amaze him how blasé DC was about famous personalities. Everyone blended into the crowd.

"Agent Booth, how good to see you."

"Senator Lerhman." Booth shook his hand.

"Glad to see you back in one piece. Afghanistan is a dangerous place."

"Thank you, sir." Booth disregarded the Senator's knowledge of his career.

"Why don't we have a drink?"

"Can't sir."

"Always on duty, huh? No matter. I'll have one for you."

Booth took out his notepad. The Senator frowned.

"You _are_ all business. Well, let's get down to it then." He sipped from his martini. "My assistant purchased the ring for me, so my wife wouldn't see the expenditure. You'll find I'm guilty of being a bad husband and not murder, Agent Booth."

"Sure wish I could take your word for it Senator."

The Senator straightened himself, his smile a snake across his lips, and he looked straight at Booth.

"I don't care what you think, Agent Booth. Wish me well or not. Makes no matter to me, you see. I've been in this town long enough to be suspected of more than one crime." He laughed at his perceived joke. "I'll get straight to the point. I don't want to waste the time of a valued federal employee like yourself."

Booth tensed his body. It was all he could do to sit still. He understood why Temperance didn't like politicians. He braced himself for a well polished alibi.

"I've been under some tough security since last summer. Death threats and all after my comments on that _Hard Ball_ show."

"You could still sneak away from the detail."

"That's where you're wrong, Agent Booth. There's intense monitoring of my house and grounds and my apartment in DC."

"Still could slip through the cracks."

"Maybe but I highly doubt it with the caliber of men I've hired. They know their career will come to an abrupt end if-"

"Something happens to you?"

"Yes. They are quite careful. So careful, in fact, they insist I wear a wireless tracking devise at all times."

"Still could beat it."

The Senator held out his forearm and brushed his fingers over an odd bump.

"Microchip."

Booth had no response for this development. He squeezed the arms of his chair.

"Has that effect on everyone. I don't take chances, Agent Booth. Ever."

There was a very pregnant pause as both men stared at the other. The Senator was first to break eye contact.

"There are logs of my whereabouts for any date you want going back about three and a half months. You won't need a search warrant. I'll call my men and give them my permission. Anything you need, do let me know."

/./././

Temperance lay in bed, somehow cold underneath a pile of covers. The rain had begun on the way home. Angela had tried to force her way into the apartment, but she wanted to be alone. She just wasn't in the mood for an evening of chit chat and sappy movies.

It was tough being there in her apartment by herself. This struck her as odd and irrational. She moved her hand under the covers, feeling the emptiness beside her. Focusing on the weather, she hoped the soft rhythmic sound would lull her to sleep. It worked for infants; it should work for an adult.

Pain kept her mind in motion. She hadn't taken her last pill of the day because she wanted to wean herself from the strong narcotics. They dulled her mental faculties and brought down her emotional walls. That could be the only explanation for the way she was feeling right then. Temperance missed Booth.

The past few days she noticed a drastic fluctuation in her emotions. She found she couldn't control them, and mood swing was not a term she wanted associated with her name. It wasn't like her to be emotional about anything. To let feelings steer her actions was against logic, an affront to her very being and scary as hell.

As she turned to her left side, the movement tugged on her sutures. She couldn't get comfortable. Funny how lying next to Booth, she'd felt little or no pain. His warmth seemed to be a medicine of its own.

Temperance closed her eyes and gave herself a mental scolding. Booth was a man. There was no magic to him. She couldn't deny his presence had an effect on her though. Her mind was tired of seesawing back and forth between contradicting ideas. Alone or not alone. Booth or no Booth.

She reached for her cell phone and dialed his number. Her experiment had indeed failed.

/././

He didn't answer right away. He watched the screen light up and saw her picture. He couldn't bring himself to pick up the phone. She had drained him of all energy. Not to mention the beer he'd downed once he got home wasn't sitting well with him. More likely, it was his conversation with the Senator. _Who microchips themselves?_ _Talk about an X-files moment._

Something gnawed at the back of his brain. Senator Lerhman was too easy. He wasn't the killer. Even if they dug up evidence that pointed smack dab at him; Booth knew in his gut. Someone else, maybe one of the boys he'd chatted with earlier in the day, but someone else knew what happened to Katie Jones. They'd watched her die. And for that, they would pay.

He took a deep breath and answered the phone. "Hey Bones."

He listened to her ask him how he knew it was her. Then she laughed about her picture popping up. He wondered if she'd just taken her pain meds.

"Yes, Bones, I programmed your number into my phone. Your picture does pop up when you call."

She asked him which picture.

"I'm not telling you."

She teased him, trying to get him to tell her.

"Bones, are you okay?"

She assured him she was okay. Just a little pain. This made his heart race.

"Bones, what's wrong?"

She hadn't taken her pain meds. Her shoulder hurt. Temperance sounded so small to him. He pictured her as a little girl.

"Baby. Please take your pills. You'll sleep."

He couldn't believe that just slipped out. _Baby._ It was late at night; he wasn't on his A game. Booth hoped she didn't notice.

/./././

Hodgins wanted to tell them to get a room. But he wasn't sure one room would contain them. He laughed when he thought about the pair. How unlikely it all was, yet how real. Angela nuzzled into him and sighed heavily in her sleep. He rubbed her arm to soothe her and pull the covers tighter.

He still couldn't believe Angela was having a baby. The biggest grin overtook his face. He counted himself a lucky man.

He knew it wouldn't be easy for Booth and Temperance to get together. They both had such huge fences around themselves. All they had to do was drop those defenses. He knew; he'd done it. He leapt and _oh baby_ he found the other side.

Yet they all walked a thin line. Booth more so than any of them. He carried the gun, and the weight of it all. Hodgins took that for granted.

He slid his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. He didn't know what he'd do if something happened to Angela. He tried not to dwell on this thought, but it kept popping up. He'd stood watch with her at the hospital while they all waited for Temperance to wake up. He'd overplayed the scenarios in his mind with his wife lying there instead.

Hodgins wanted to tell Booth not to take anything for granted.

/./././


	38. Telling

Temperance awoke with a start, the sudden movement tugging on her shoulder in all the wrong places. Her voice echoed in the empty apartment. She half expected Booth to come bounding into her room. _No, she had been stubborn and had spent the night alone._

Checking the clock, she climbed out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. Blood had again seeped through the gauze covering her wound. She needed to be more careful. Torn sutures would give Booth more reason to nag her, or worse yet; it could land her back in the hospital.

She removed her T-shirt like a snake shedding its skin, arms a little stiff. She hadn't slept well. She picked at the edges of the medical tape and peeled off the latest layer of bandages. Cringing at the redness and swelling. She ran the tap until the water felt lukewarm and then wet a clean wash cloth. Hesitant to use anything stronger than soapy water, she dabbed the area.

She'd had another nightmare. This time, she'd watched Booth die. Restrained, she could do nothing but watch. Now with every blink, she still saw the ghastly image. His blood on her hands. His eyes pleading with her. She remembered screaming, and thought it was a good thing Booth had spent the night at his place.

Temperance wanted to get to the bottom of her nighttime adventures. She fully believed dreams were the brain's way of crunching problems while you slept or simply a replay of events filtered through the subconscious. Yet something gnawed at her. Maybe it was her lack of decent sleep or the withdrawal from narcotics. _Withdrawal from Booth_.

The nightmares and sleep walking had begun before she was shot; this she knew. They had nothing to do with her injury. Something had been troubling her before Booth even came back from Afghanistan. Temperance just didn't know what it was yet.

/./././

Booth scooped up the mail, noticing brown splotches from the coffee he'd spilled days ago. Last night, he'd ignored everything but a beer and bed. Sorting the bills from the junk, he came across a plain white envelope. Alarm bells went off in his gut.

He grabbed a tissue to pick up the strange letter. He didn't have any gloves. He thought of his partner; she always carried gloves. Taking out his pocket knife he readied himself to open the envelope. He froze. His mind flew to Howard Epps and how he'd poisoned Cam with powder.

Holding the envelope up to the light, it didn't look like anything was inside except a single sheet of paper. He wasn't taking any chances. Booth found an old painter's mask in a drawer by the sink, and he remembered he had some tweezers there too.

He pulled on the mask, and heart pounding, he sliced the top of the envelope. Nothing happened. No puff of smoke, nothing. He took a deep, stale breath and set the knife on the counter. Part of him almost expected someone to jump out of the letter. His nerves were that unsteady.

Booth took a deep breath and then slipped the paper out of the envelope, using the tweezers. Staring at it until his eyes blurred in and out of focus, he found it tough to believe what he saw. He had to catch his breath and read the note one more time.

_She shouldn't die. You said she had no heart._

Booth tossed the paper on the table and ran full tilt to the bathroom. He vomited just as he reached the toilet, so thankful he'd left the seat up. Yellow streams ran down his chin, and he coughed and heaved until he felt nothing but emptiness. Curling into a ball on the floor, he lay there, trying to calm himself with tears running down his face.

After what seemed like an hour later, he stood in the kitchen again, studying the letter. The message had been created using a computer. Angela would know the details. Someone else would dust the paper and envelope for prints. He tried to shift into second gear and follow procedure, but he just couldn't do it.

Pacing his apartment, he kicked errant shoes out of his way. He wasn't ready to accept what he knew, let alone tell anyone else. Not thinking, he whacked a bag with his bowling ball in it and collapsed on the floor in a pool of self loathing.

His foot throbbing, Booth groaned. "Why Gina? Why?"

/./././

The news had been good. Her pregnancy was progressing as it should. Angela though insisted something was wrong. Hodgins assured her she'd been reading too many books. Right now, they were at an impasse. Every attempt to allay her fears was met with flailing arms and loud arguing.

He loved Angela and was thrilled with the idea of being a father. _No, father wasn't the right word. Too formal. He would be daddy with a capital D._ He smiled even as she fretted and complained about her growing belly and the life nurtured within it.

"We've got a long road ahead, babe. You've gotta pace yourself with the worrying." He tilted his head and made sure their eyes connected. "Or you're gonna wear me out."

She smiled at him. He couldn't register what she was thinking, if she agreed or not.

"I still haven't told Bren." She flopped back on the bed, landing on the mountain of pillows.

He nodded and understood. "So that's what this is about. Not the baby."

"I can't believe I haven't told her."

"Angie, there hasn't been time. The past few days have been crazy."

"She's my best friend."

"Give yourself a break. You can tell her today."

She seemed satisfied with this answer. He watched her close her eyes and relax into the pillows.

/./././

"I still don't follow your argument, Dr. Brennan." Lance Sweets stood his ground.

"I posit that I am sleepwalking as a reaction to stress. The nightmares are the same." Temperance couldn't believe she had divulged this information to the young shrink.

"Yes, that's probably true, but-"

She cut him off and continued. "If I eliminate the stress, the sleep disturbances will cease."

"Dr. Brennan, I don't think it's that simple." Sweets was clearly annoyed.

She went on, ignoring him, reciting some research she had done on the subject over the summer in her ample free time. In her mind, she added – _her time without Booth._

"Dr. Brennan." This time he raised his voice.

She stopped and blinked. "Dr. Sweets."

"What you are doing is perfectly natural."

"Yes, of course, sleepwalking is actually quite common."

"No – this is not about the sleepwalking or the nightmares. The sleepwalking is a-" She cut him off once again.

"This is about sleepwalking. I needed a semi-professional opinion. I see now I should have asked Dr. Saroyan instead."

"Dr. Brennan," He stopped her from leaving by grabbing her lab coat. "The sleep disturbances are a symptom of a larger issue."

She tugged to get out of his grasp, the sudden movement pulling on her shoulder. He didn't register her slight wince. Sweets held tight.

"The sooner you deal with this the better."

"I assure you, Sweets, there are no larger issues." She broke free. "I simply need to monitor my stress levels."

He backed away from her, suddenly embarrassed by his closeness. She smoothed her lab coat and switched her gaze to the floor.

"Maybe I _am_ putting in too many hours since my injury. Booth–" She paused at his name and took an extra breath. "Booth is always telling me I stay at the lab too late. Maybe he's right."

Sweets hardly noticed her exit because he was so taken aback by her admission. Temperance rarely admitted she was wrong – and never in front of him.

/./././

Booth sat on his couch, arms spread across the back. The calm he sought was far from his reach. His mind raced in circles. He had to keep the note a secret, couldn't tell a soul. Maybe he was wrong, and it wasn't Gina after all. Yet as soon as those words crossed his mind, a sharp twinge of guilt told him he knew better.

He'd said those words about his partner. Gina had been a willing listener one hot night, as they sipped contraband booze in his tiny quarters in Afghanistan. In a moment of anger, he'd said Temperance had no heart. He thought about the oppressive heat and the constant whirring of the AC unit. It all seemed endless, and Gina had been his oasis. Booth remembered how she'd gobbled up those hurtful words, sympathizing with him and comforting him with sex.

He jumped up as his phone danced on the kitchen table, the buzzing yanking him back into the present. Checking the screen, he saw it was a text from Caroline. A new lead in the Katie Jones case. They had an address for Tim Raben, the other twin. Now, Booth had to switch gears. He'd put the letter on the backburner for now.


	39. Wok Tango

_**Thanks to Urja, a masterful, creative goddess... :-) **_

"Booth, please."

He shook his head and looked away from her. He couldn't say no. He wanted her to stay in the vehicle, yet he wanted to keep her by his side. Conflicted didn't quite cover his mood. Their suspect had just darted into an alleyway between a rundown motel and a restaurant. Booth had to pursue him. He just didn't plan on having an injured partner in tow.

They exited the SUV in a flash, Temperance shadowing his every move. Inching toward the opening between the buildings, the crowd moved around them, flowing like they weren't even there. Booth tried to focus his eyes, straining to follow Tim Raben.

"Wait." She tried to keep her voice low.

She motioned to a door at the far end of the alley. Booth drew his weapon and continued with Temperance trailing. He held his hand out to keep her back.

"Stay here."

The door was ajar, and sounds of a restaurant kitchen drifted their way. She ducked behind the dumpster so she could see the door but no one coming out of there could see her. He nodded and headed into the building.

She counted to ten. She had no intention of sitting on her heels waiting for Booth. Her shoulder wasn't bothering her too much. But most of all, Booth might need her help. She moved toward the opening and peered hesitantly inside.

A loud crash followed by yelling met her ears and Temperance jumped back. She recognized one of the voices. _Booth_. Several men dressed in black pants and white cook tops came streaming out of the restaurant, pushing her to the ground. She scrambled to her feet and raced inside the door, ignoring the searing pain radiating from her shoulder.

It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust. The alley had been lit only by a crack of sunlight from the crease in the two buildings packed so closely together. The kitchen area was lit by powerful fluorescents. She squinted and surveyed the room.

Pots boiled on the many stoves and something was burning. A thin film of smoke hung in the air as she inched deeper into the room. She rubbed her eyes and pulled her shirt up to her face, giving her something to filter the acrid air.

Two voices suddenly filled her ears. The sound seemed to come from every corner. She listened as Booth tried to reason with the man they'd been chasing. Temperance thought she heard the word gun. She froze. There was quiet again. The effect was disorienting. She wasn't sure she'd heard anything, and combined with the thick film of smoldering food hanging in the air, she lost her bearings for a second and felt dizzy.

Then, she spotted the source of the haze. A skillet on the stove in front of her sizzled and popped, smoke drifting from the pan. She scooted a few feet and turned the knob on the stove to the off position. The crackle of gunfire and the ping of bullets hitting metal sent her to the floor. She crouched on the cool sticky tile, trying to control her breathing.

Again there was arguing and more gunplay. She couldn't tell where they were as the smog burned her eyes. Then she clearly heard the sounds of a scuffle. Grunting and swearing and yelling, more pots crashing to the floor. She moved forward ever so slowly trying to stay below the cloud. A small caliber handgun skittered to the floor a few feet away from her.

Booth wrestled with Tim Raben, shoving him into the stainless steel counter. The man pushed back, jamming Booth into a rack of serving utensils. The two shared blows back and forth until they turned a corner and Temperance's view was obscured by racks of plates. She kicked the gun under a counter, not wanting the suspect to get his hands on it again.

There was a muffled groan from Booth, and their suspect slammed into her. She felt the sharp corner of the counter jamming into her back and for a moment she had the wind knocked out of her. She crumpled to the floor as he ran toward the alley door.

It took her a moment to regain herself, to climb out of her own pain and remember where she was. Taking a quick inventory, she knew she was alright. Just a little bumped and bruised. She wasn't so sure about her partner, and fear shot through her.

"Booth." She called.

There was no answer. She crawled along the floor, hoping to find a layer of cooler, more breathable air. Booth sat on the floor against the prep counter, panting, trying to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry Bones, he gave me the slip."

He gulped air.

"He got the drop on me."

Her eyes traced his outline, every inch from his white face downward and they widened when they got just below his ribcage. His sport coat was torn and hanging off to the side. The white dress shirt underneath was also ripped and staining a deep red. She knelt beside him.

"It's ok Booth. Don't -" her breath caught in her throat when she noticed the fork protruding from the tear in his shirt. "Don't move. I'll get help."

She looked around the room. The kitchen was deserted. No doubt the staff went running when the fight ensued and guns were drawn.

Booth reached down and put his left hand on the utensil's handle.

"No! Booth! Don't do that."

Temperance was surprised by the fear in her voice. She took a deep breath to calm herself. She tore off her coat, hoping she could help staunch the bleeding but was afraid to put too much pressure on the wound with the fork sticking out like it was.

"Ok, ok." His arms flopped to his sides and his eyes fluttered closed.

"Booth. Booth, open your eyes." She nudged him. "Please open your eyes."

His eyes popped open.

"Bones." He tried to push himself up off the floor, "We gotta get goin."

"We're not going anywhere just yet." She kept him from moving and reached into her coat pocket for her cell to dial for help.

"I need an ambulance at 600 H St NW, in the back kitchen of the Wok N Roll. Stab wound to the lower left abdomen." She paused. "Yes blood loss, no fluids. I'm afraid to apply too much pressure because the weapon is still in the wound."


	40. Pause Necessary

**_**After a short break, I'm back to this story. :-) I'd love to know what you think. Thanks..._**

/./././

Cam dialed Booth's cell and the line went straight to voicemail. She knew the pair had planned on interviewing the other twin this morning, so she wasn't worried. Booth being out of touch might simply mean the interrogation was still underway. She poked her head out of her office when she heard voices. Angela and Hodgins were walking along the hallway so deep in conversation they didn't notice their boss's eavesdropping.

"Because if she's late or if something else happens and I can't tell her." Angela threw her hands up, flinging a file folder into the air.

Hodgins kept pace with her, not one flinch at the flying papers. "Baby, it'll be okay."

Cam retreated into her office perplexed and a little concerned. She watched them disappear onto the second level, and then picked up the papers strewn on the tile floor like leaves from a tree. She didn't have a clue what could be going on with those two, but something told her it was big.

She struggled some days with being the boss, their leader, when she wanted to be their friend, first and foremost. Organizing her desk, she sorted her thoughts into two distinct categories. _Work and Not Work_.

Right on cue, her cell phone vibrated from the half open desk drawer. She checked the screen, expecting to see Michele's picture pop up. Her adopted daughter was preoccupied with college applications, and no doubt, wanted to complain about an admission's essay. To her surprise, it was a text from Temperance.

/./././

"I'm fine, Bones." Booth pushed himself up slightly with a bit of a groan. "I'm fine."

"No you aren't, Booth." Temperance moved to get him to lie down. "You have a cooking utensil protruding from your -."

He cut her off. "Ah that's nothing. I'll be fine once someone yanks it out of me."

"I don't think there will be any yanking involved in its removal, Booth." She glared at him.

"Come on, Bones. It'll just be a few stitches. I've had worse." He gave her the goofiest grin that melted when she didn't agree.

The pair continued to bicker even as the young doctor entered the room. The doors slid shut with a whoosh behind him. Temperance noted he looked to be close in age to Dr. Sweets and pursed her lips in obvious disapproval.

"I see you're conscious and in good spirits, Agent Booth. Doctor Andrew Moore at your service." He held out his hand. It was Temperance who shook the offered appendage.

"Thank you for coming Doctor. Agent Booth has a-" Her mouth dropped open at his interruption.

"A fork sticking out of him." The doctor angled himself for a better look. "I can see that, Ms. Brennan. Thank you for your concern. You've taken good care of your partner. Now please take a step back."

Booth shot her a look to stop.

"Certainly." She stood near the funky orange visitor chair along the wall, but didn't sit down. She wanted the best possible view.

"We'll need to get some X-rays; that's for sure. I don't want to remove the object until I know what's going on in there. Let me reserve a room. I don't want you to wait any longer, Agent Booth."

"Couldn't you use a portable ultrasound?" She shot in her two cents.

"Yes, I could, if we had one available." He jotted a few notes on Booth's chart. "Please Ms. Brennan, I have this under control."

"It's Dr. Brennan, and I only have Booth's health in mind."

"Ms. Brennan, I understand your concern. Please let me do my job."

She took a deep breath and was about to launch into a diatribe about how she was a doctor and not a Ms., when Dr. Moore gave her an odd look. He set the chart beside Booth and moved toward her.

"Please, Dr. Brennan, could you sit down for me?" His voice more genuine in tone with maybe a hint of concern.

"Why?" She was surprised by his change in demeanor. Her eyes darted to her partner.

"You're bleeding." The crackle in Booth's voice made her legs go out from under her.

/./././


	41. Torn in Places

"I assure you, it's nothing." Temperance lowered herself into the chair, maneuvering to unbutton her shirt. The pain in her left shoulder was so great she found that arm was of little help. Funny how she hadn't noticed it before this moment.

With ever so much care, she undid each button with her working hand, her unsteady fingers slipping. She took a deep breath, feeling her heart thumping in her chest. Her wound had come to life. She knew why she was bleeding. In all the excitement of earlier, she must have torn a suture. This development did not surprise her rationally. What shocked her was the sudden rush of anxiety that accompanied the surge of pain. She breathed in trembling hiccups of air.

"Bones." _Booth__'__s__voice__and__her__name._ The words echoed in her head and she looked at him. "Steady. Breathe." She found herself watching his lips as he spoke.

"Dr. Brennan, would you like some privacy?" The doctor had moved around the bed, closing the distance between them.

She held up her hand and shook her head, and closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

"That's it, Bones. Deep breath." Booth continued to soothe her.

Resuming her task, Temperance unfastened the rest of the buttons. Then, she let the doctor help her slide her shirt out of the way.

"I changed my dressing this morning and noticed nothing out of the ordinary." She lied, clearly remembering the blood on the bandage.

"Well, Dr. Brennan, with all the excitement today." His voice trailed off. "Are you sure you don't want your own room?"

"No this is fine." She slipped her bra strap down her arm ever so carefully to give him an unobstructed view.

Booth could not take his eyes off her. She tried to connect with him every chance she got. He was her anchor. She noticed his eyes drop briefly and she realized the doctor's discomfort.

"Agent Booth and I are partners," she began, "We've shared many things."

"I'm going to remove this tape. It might sting a little." She didn't notice he spoke.

"I have nothing to hide from Booth. And the human form is-" She paused to wince.

"Bones."

"Booth."

"Let the doctor do his thing."

/././././

Cam stacked the paperwork neatly on her desk and pushed back in her chair. The lab was quiet and practically deserted this afternoon. Hodgins and Angela had not returned from lunch, and all of the interns in the building were at some kind of grant meeting. Both Booth and Temperance had insisted she not drop everything and rush to the hospital. Booth's wound was not serious. She felt her heart flutter a little when she'd talked to Temperance earlier. Cam understood all the medical jargon and knew Booth was lucky. Serving forks and abdomens should never come in contact with one another.

She used the uninterrupted moments to read over application requirements for colleges on Michelle's list. The task had grown more daunting than she remembered. The final deadlines were approaching and her worry grew with each passing day. She wanted only the best for her adopted daughter. Yet, deep down, she wished they had more time. Michelle would go off to college, and Cam would be alone again.

Things didn't have to look so bleak though. She could say yes to Paul. In fact, he'd asked her to dinner for tonight. She doubted their relationship would go anywhere. He was a busy OBGYN, and most of her time was tied up with the Jeffersonian. Dinner and interesting conversation were always good, though, especially if there was a little sex involved afterwards. And she had to admit, she'd fallen for the handsome doctor. Cam smiled and grabbed her purse.

/././././

Booth closed his phone. Temperance had moved into the kitchen, pouring them each a drink. He watched her for a few seconds, noticing her slow, measured movements. They'd been through a lot today, and he wanted to keep things light and upbeat. All he could think to talk about, though, was the case. He tried to push those thoughts down and just enjoy this quiet moment with her. As she crossed the room and sat with him on the couch, his mouth fell open and work popped out.

"Turns out it didn't have anything to do with the case, Bones. Not Tim Raben. We just happened to stumble on a guy dealing drugs from that restaurant. Bad luck." He reached for a pillow, cringing as it was barely within his reach. Temperance pushed it his direction.

"I don't believe in luck, Booth. It's all just random circumstances."

"Random circumstances that could have gotten us killed." He grunted and groaned as he moved the pillow into place.

She didn't have a reply. He was right, as usual and it drove her crazy. She turned her attention to his discharge paperwork.

"Stop reading that, Bones. You aren't my doctor."

"I will be taking care of you tonight." She looked right at him, and he thought he noticed a flash of disappointment. "You never cared in the past if I read your medical records."

"You, take care of me?" He cracked a smile. She wasn't amused. "You can barely take care of yourself."

"I'm fine, Booth, perfectly fine."

"It's plain to see that you're not. The doc had to restitch your shoulder."

She turned away from him.

"Look at me."

She didn't move.

"Bones, please."

She relented and met his gaze.

"I got hurt today. It happens."

"You had surgery."

"Relatively minor surgery. Local anesthetic."

He pulled her closer and lifted his shirt.

"See just a few stitches."

"There could be an infection."

"Bones, I've had worse. I've been shot before – heck – you shot me."

"That was a flesh wound and not relevant to this conversation."

Booth let go of her hand and pulled his shirt down gingerly. He caught some of the bandage and just the small tug was enough to almost bring tears to his eyes. He gasped, not able to mask his pain.

"Booth, you should be lying down. Resting."

He ignored her words and grabbed her waist with both hands, giving her a little shake.

"Bones, you have to let me help you."

She didn't push him away from her.

"Booth." His lips were just barely touching her forehead. She backed up but didn't step out of his embrace. Her voice just a whisper, she said, "It's you who needs the help right now."

He made a small sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan, letting go of her as he eased himself onto the couch.

"Fine." was all he could manage to say before his lights went out, sweet oblivion washing over him.

"Booth?" A smile threaded its way across his face. The pain meds had finally taken hold. She envied his sleep. She herself had not slept through the night in days.

Maybe she could get some rest now, cuddled beside him. She grabbed a blanket and threw it over both of them. Normally, she would dismiss this idea. But too much had happened, and Temperance was exhausted.

/././././

Hodgins balanced two brown paper bags, overflowing with all manner of fruits, veggies and snacks. Angela led the way to Booth's apartment.

"I don't think Booth's real big on surprises. And you saw how it went over with Dr. B." He used his chin to nudge an escaping banana.

"I'm just gonna leave some groceries, so they have less to worry about." Angela adjusted the wandering produce without missing a beat.

Her husband was in the mood to pick. "You mean so they can focus on each other."

She punched him.

"How are we getting in anyway?" His eyes watered just a bit. "And, ouch, that hurt."

"I have a key." She rubbed his arm for him. "Sorry, pregnancy hormones."

"You have a key to Booth's place?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes." Angela dug into her purse, producing an average looking silver key. "Brennan gave it to me when she was pretending she needed distance last year."

"Perspective. I think she said something about perspective."

"Whatever. It was all a lie."

"Ange, go easy on her."

"No, I won't." She pushed open the door and peered inside, stopping to listen. Satisfied, she continued into the apartment. "It's about time someone tells her life's too short to wait around for logic. She needs to just jump his-"

"Babe," Hodgins pointed toward the couch. "They're here."


	42. Waking Up

_**This is a short chapter. I'm taking a break from my NaNo and thought I'd give you all a little present. Thanks again for reading.**_

**_Disclaimer: of course I don't own Bones. :-) Wouldn't be called fan fiction if I did!_**

Booth opened his eyes but they wouldn't focus. The TV was a bright, mumbling blur in the background. A gradual awareness of warmth made him think of a dog. He laughed. _He__ didn__'__t __have __a __dog.__ This__ felt__ like__ a __person.__ Bones!__ Wait__ a__ minute;__ did__ he__ just __call__ his__ Bones __a__ dog?_

He hated narcotics. They scattered his brains, tore his thoughts into silly fragments he couldn't begin to grasp. Helpless was one thing Booth did not like to feel. He needed to wake up and get with the program.

They had to move to his bed. This normally would have rattled him, but right now, all he wanted was comfort. Sure, he'd slept in her bed, but she'd never been in his. Changing positions meant exerting energy he wasn't sure he had. Booth closed his eyes and dozed for a few minutes.

It didn't take long for a sharp pain in his side to yank him fully into the moment. He grunted, steeling himself against the growing fireball. Sitting up, Booth cursed as the sutures tugged on his wounded flesh. His partner barely stirred. He couldn't carry her, so he'd have to wake her.

"Babe." He didn't even notice the particular word that slipped from his mouth and neither did she. "Babe, wake up."

He nudged her. Her eyes fluttered, "Hmm, Booth?"

"Bed."

She nodded. "Bed."

He worried for a moment she wouldn't go with him, but she sat up and before he could exhale, she wrapped her arm around him.

"Lean on me." She murmured.

"No Bones." He slipped his arm around her. "Together."

As Booth adjusted the covers around them, he let go of some of his anxiety. _Nothing__ could__ hurt__ her __here__ in __his__ arms._ Her head on his shoulder, she murmured something to him he couldn't understand, and he lay there waiting for her to say more, half smiling because he was in bed with his partner. Temperance was back to sleep in no time at all, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

The day had been a long one, not ending as either of them expected. _Of__ course,__ who __expects__ to__ be__ stabbed__ with__ a__ fork__ by__ some__ guy __in __a__ Chinese __restaurant?_ He couldn't believe his life sometimes. He loved the adrenaline rush, right now, that rush kept him awake.

Arms folded over his chest, his mind would not shut down. The littlest things were picking away at his brain. And all this sleeping in the same bed was not helping. He couldn't deny it; he loved her. But they hadn't so much as kissed. She'd been shot, and now he'd been stabbed. All he could think was how short life was, and something was trying to get that message across to both of them. Booth had to tell Temperance about the letter and Gina.

For now, he really needed to sleep.

/./././


	43. Admissions & Guilt

"Looks like the grocery fairy's been here."

"I don't know what that means." She pushed past him.

Booth held up a note. "Ange was here."

"And she brought fruit." Temperance smiled.

"How did she get into my place?"

"I gave her a key."

He raised an eyebrow. "My key?"

"Yea." She peeled a banana and sliced it into a bowl.

"Why did you give Angela my key?"

Temperance ignored him. She grabbed a bunch of grapes and began plucking them into the same bowl.

"Bones, I uh, I have something to say."

She looked up but kept organizing her fruit.

"Could you please look at me?" There was an edge to his voice.

Her eyes found his with a hint of concern. "Are you in pain?"

"Yes, yea, I'm in a little pain, but that's not what I want to tell you."

"Go ahead, Booth. I'm listening." She popped a grape into her mouth. He rolled his eyes and sighed. She swallowed the grape and raised her eyebrows in contrition.

"I wanted to wait until the end of the case. I didn't want anything to get in the way of finding Katie's killer, or getting the Senator off Cam's butt." He sat beside her at the table. He had trouble making eye contact, his voice now heavy with impending tears.

She touched his hand.

"I've been keeping something from you, Bones."

Her mouth opened but she didn't speak. She tilted her head and searched his face. His eyes darted away from hers.

"Booth." She squeezed his hand, digging her nails in just a little. "It's okay."

"There's something I should have told you and didn't. Then yesterday happened and I just can't-"

"Booth, it's okay."

"No it's not. I might have endangered your life."

"Wha-? I went into that building on my own, Booth."

"No, it's not that."

"Then what?"

He pushed away from the table and stood up so fast the chair slid backwards.

"I know who shot you, alright?'

"How could you possibly know that, Booth?"

"I just do."

"You feel it in your stomach?"

"My gut, Bones. I feel it in my gut, and I have proof."

"You have proof, Booth?" Her eyes registered the hurt she wouldn't voice.

"I got a letter in the mail."

"When?" She gathered the remains of her fruit and tossed everything in the trash.

"I don't know for sure. I hadn't really been home in days with all the commotion." He couldn't take his eyes from her.

"Who sent the letter?" She washed her hands like she was preparing for surgery.

"It wasn't signed. There were no identifying marks."

"Were? Do you still have it?"

He motioned toward the pile of mail on the end of the counter.

"Good. May I see it?"

"Gina sent it before she shot you." Booth blurted this sentence with a whoosh of guilt and admission.

"You don't know that, Booth." She pulled on a pair of purple gloves she had tucked into a pocket of her handbag. "We have to get this tested. Have Ange take a look at it."

"I thought of that already."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" There it was, a small piece of her pain.

"I thought I could protect you." This sounded like a hundred other lame excuses he could have used even though it was the truth.

"By withholding evidence and not allowing me to leave your side?"

"I know, faulty reasoning."

"No, Booth, I wouldn't put it that way. It's very alpha male. But I am not a damsel in distress. I can take care of my self. If I know all the facts."

"I couldn't tell you everything."

"We're partners, Booth. You can tell me anything."

"Not when it's about you, Bones. I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

"We aren't children, Booth."

"I said something. In anger. And maybe a little frustration." He paused to catch his breath as if his words took on physical form and he could barely lift them. "I broke your trust and said something hurtful about you. To Gina."

Temperance stared at him for a moment, eyes never leaving his. He could see her processing what he was saying, and then her focus turned to the piece of paper in her hand. Her eyes darted to the letter and then back to Booth. This was not the kind of math he loved to watch her do in her head. She was no longer the rational investigator.

"I'm sorry, Bones."

She didn't seem to register his distress. He watched her, as if something washed over her in one breath, in and out. She composed herself so quickly it made his head spin.

"There's no way you could have known a relationship with Gina would result in this type of behavior. If that's even what happened here."

He decided to go with the flow.

"No, I guess not."

"Let's get this evidence to the lab. To ease your anxiety."

"You're not worried?"

"No, Booth, we'll be fine. My shooting was random gun violence. Statistics show-"

"You know those statistics don't apply to this event, Bones. I know you feel it. Your hands are shaking."


	44. Too Much Information

_**Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Bones. :) **_

_**I'd love to know what you think. Thanks to everyone for reading and especially for reviewing. **_

Angela held the letter with tweezers like it might bite her.

"You think this was sent by Gina?"

"Well, I cannot assume anything but I imagine she felt I was an obstacle and needed to remove me." Temperance smoothed the strap of her sling.

"But not kill you." Angela's face softened.

"I can't assume that either."

"But the letter." She turned the note so Temperance could see the message.

"I know, I read it."

"She didn't think she'd kill you because you don't have a heart." Angela shook her head and raised her eyebrows. "What is going on with this girl?"

"Her intent can be inferred from the words she used, yes, but her statement is inaccurate because-"

"Bren, do you want to talk about this?"

"We are talking about this, Ange."

"I mean the stuff about Booth."

"I don't see how Booth relates to the letter except that he was briefly involved with Gina. He didn't help her write it."

Angela nodded. "No sweetie, he didn't help her write it."

"Those were his words." She was so matter of fact that Angela took a moment to reply. Each woman avoided the gaze of the other.

"You don't know that for sure." She squeezed her best friend's arm.

"Yes, I do. He confessed."

"He was angry with you. His feelings were hurt." Angela reached out and touched her friend's arm.

Temperance took a deep breath, and Angela thought they might be getting somewhere with this conversation. She would be disappointed.

"I have to meet Booth. The FBI has Tim Raben in custody. I'll talk to you later, Ange."

/./././

The lights in the room were almost too bright. His head felt thick from a lack of proper sleep. He'd drifted in and out of dreams replaying the chase in the smoky restaurant kitchen, except sometimes his Bones was stabbed. He'd slipped in her blood. Nightmares were familiar territory for Booth, a concession made to a lifetime of military and law enforcement duties. Now though, he couldn't help but notice a difference. He had trouble separating himself emotionally from this nightly journey.

Temperance sat beside him at the table. Tim Raben slouched across from them, every once in a while cracking his knuckles. He'd made it known he wouldn't contribute anything helpful. Claimed he didn't know anything. Didn't even know Katie was missing. He hadn't heard from her in years. Both of them knew he was stalling, and neither partner wanted to wait him out.

"We found Katie." Booth broke the silence. He was careful not to give away too much information.

"Where?" Tim's eyes lit up for a split second then faded back to a dull grey.

"Why don't you tell me, tough guy?"

"Come on, man. I haven't seen her in months. I had nothing to do with this."

Booth paused before responding. He knew Tim Raben was mostly telling the truth. Didn't mean he had to like the guy.

"So you need to start talking now, buddy." Booth loomed over the table and grabbed the suspect by the collar. Temperance shot him a look, and he let go.

Tim brushed off his coat. "Are you allowed to do that? Uh, I mean you being a Fed and all."

"That's just it, Tim. I can do anything I want." Booth made very direct eye contact with the twin. Every move was painful, and he hid his discomfort with a very stern demeanor. He hoped no one noticed.

"That's right, Tim." Temperance turned her chair around and straddled the seat. "So you better start talking."

Booth recognized her "bad cop" routine and almost started laughing. She was so cute when she played tough. He cleared his throat. "Look, Tim. All we want is a few answers."

"To what questions?"

"Oh, you know, Tim. You know." She raised her eyebrows and shook her head, brushing her hair off her shoulders.

Booth had to stop this game and get Tim to talk before he completely lost his composure over Temperance and her little act. Not to mention, his gut ached. He had to admit those pain meds he didn't take earlier were looking pretty good right about now. He couldn't wait until he was home for the day and snuggled into bed with Temperance naked. _Wait, no, scratch that._ _What the hell was he thinking?_ He had to get her out of the room. He couldn't concentrate with her so close.

He stood up and motioned for her to follow him. Out in the hall, he leaned in for a whisper. "Look, I need to do this one on my own."

"Can I watch?" She had no idea how much she turned him on right then.

"No, uh, go get some coffee and I'll meet you in my office. Won't take long."

"Okay Booth." Her answer surprised him. No arguing, no compromising. She smiled and turned to walk down the hall.

"Bones." She turned at her nickname. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Booth." She gave him a little wave, and he noticed a slight twinge of pain cross her face. Her shoulder probably.

He ducked back into the interrogation room, closing the door with the slightest click. He wanted this to all be over so he could go home and lie down, maybe have a talk with Temperance about the state of their partnership, their – well whatever you wanted to call it. Booth couldn't imagine going home without her.

Tim was ready for him. "Look man, I've had some scary dudes in suits watching my place. When I saw you, I ran for it."

"You didn't have to stab me."

"I didn't, man. You gotta believe me. There was some other guy in there, dealing probably."

Booth poured himself a glass of water; he didn't offer any to Tim. He pushed back in his chair. There was a soft buzzing from somewhere, but otherwise the room was silent. He knew nobody was watching him in the other room.

"Okay, I know it wasn't you."

"What?"

"You had people in high places watching you."

"What are you talking about, man?"

"Seems a certain Senator took an interest in you."

"Katie's Senator? Why? I don't get it. And if you already knew that then why the tough guy routine?"

"Yea, I was just playing with you."

Tim nodded, taking a moment to process the information. "You should ask Jeff Roth what he was doing in that park a few months ago."

"Park?" Booth had been careful not to mention Rock Creek Park.

"You know. That park in the city. Rock something. I seen him there a couple times. Not the best place to sightsee for a guy in a chair."


	45. Proof

_**Here's another chapter. I will do my best to post once a week. Enjoy!**_

"I've got agents tracking Jeff Roth down. There's nothing we can do until morning."

With that, Booth peeled off the layers of the day and crashed on his bed. He didn't say anything to her about sleeping arrangements; he barely said good night. She had to admit she knew she would make no other choice but to climb into bed beside her partner. First she had to get over one important hurdle. She wasn't the least bit tired.

This case had brought her back to the Jeffersonian. The team had rallied around Cam, returning from different corners of the Earth. To Temperance, it was more than an obligation. Booth always told her there was more than one kind of family. She knew this academically. She could count off numerous societies that formed familial groups outside of the biological unit.

Then, just like that, her mind wound its way back to the issue at hand. _Jeff Roth._ Temperance had considered him a viable suspect right off the bat, though she couldn't explain why. There was nothing to suggest he'd been involved in Katie's death.

It was outside the societal norm to suspect a man in a wheelchair. She grappled with the anthropological considerations of her theory. Their culture dubbed the physically challenged somehow weaker than the population as a whole, viewing those individuals as less capable in all aspects of life, especially violence. Yet she knew from experience never to assume anything about a case. Let the evidence speak for itself.

Temperance couldn't shake her gut feelings, but she couldn't go on them alone. After all, messages from one's gastrointestinal tract didn't stand up much in court. But they were there, bright as day, staring her in the face on this cold night without sleep.

Something just wasn't adding up about Jeff Roth. She'd originally chalked up his attitude to the accident; his ambivalence hidden only by a thin sheet of feigned concern. Katie had cost him his future, and holding a grudge was a natural response. Seeking vengeance was something else altogether.

Angela could work up some scenarios on her computer, and Hodgins volunteered to check out the area in the park mentioned by Tim Raben at the end of his interview. Cam had stayed at the lab late to go over her autopsy notes one more time. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to go on; their physical evidence was slim. Time and the elements had washed away anything helpful.

Then something occurred to her. _What if Jeff Roth was not paralyzed?_ _How would she convince anyone a man in a wheelchair was faking it?_ She couldn't just yell fire and expect him to jump out of his chair. What she needed was proof. Something to force his hand.

She brushed her teeth and washed her face, hoping the familiar routine would somehow ease her mind. If she stayed here much longer, she'd have to bring some things from her apartment. Her eyes fell on the prescription bottle sticking out of her overnight bag; the pain from her shoulder ever nagging. Temperance slipped a small white pill into her mouth and swallowed it with a big gulp of water before crawling into bed with a snoring Booth.

/./././

Tim Raben crept along the scraggly bushes. He'd been crouching there for about half an hour watching Jeff Roth go through a rather rigorous session of physical therapy. Not a sign that he could move his legs. The guy was a great actor. Tim shook his head in disbelief. Doubt tickled the edges of his mind. _Was he wrong? Was Katie wrong?_

The therapist left after another grueling twenty minutes, the twin still squatting there, watching and waiting, about to lose his mind. Between the strong urge to piss and his growling stomach, he couldn't take much more. He double checked his surroundings and unzipped his fly, letting nature take its course.

With a sigh of relief, he supported himself by leaning against the house. The vinyl siding made a dull popping sound. Jeff looked up toward the open window. From where he stood, he was partially hidden by shadow, but he wasn't taking any chances. Holding his breath for a second, Tim sent one of his rare prayers to the big guy. _Please don't let him see me._

"I know you're out there, Ken. Or is it Timmy Boy?" Jeff leapt out of his chair and crossed the room in just a little less than a flash. "Doesn't really matter. You're both one and the same, the biggest loser combination."

Anger over-road his shock. Jeff could walk. _The fucking liar._ Tim fought the urge to respond in kind. He had so many things to say to his former friend. A few years ago, they'd been inseparable. The four of them – Tim, Ken, Jeff and Katie – were an odd little group, hanging out after classes and stealing the occasional beers from their parents. But that was high school, and the fun and games had all ended that terrible night four days after graduation. Life was never the same.

"Come on, Timmy. I know it's you. Have you come to avenge your little slut girlfriend?"

Tim felt his stomach churn. He wanted to kill Jeff Roth. Better yet, he wanted to turn that little lying son of a bitch in to the FBI.


	46. Killer Fake

Tim peered through the window straining to see into the room below. Jeff had evaporated. The state of the art wheelchair sat alone in the basement family room.

He ran along the house, feet dragging like cold bricks. Blood pounding in his ears, he breathed a big whoosh of an exhale and stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Maybe he'd make a run for it. Be done with this for tonight. Then, laughter erupted from what seemed like all around him.

_He's coming for me._

Tim stumbled, falling to his knees in the shale along the side of the house. His car was parked up the road out of sight. Nobody knew he was here. Jeff's parents were out of town. His chest was about to split open, the thumping was so fierce, and now he was a little light-headed with panic.

_Wait, what was he so afraid of? This was Jeff he was talking about. _

"I'm going to kill you!" The words dripped with ridiculous glee.

Tim wouldn't let fear get the best of him. He straightened up and watched for signs of his former friend. There'd be no witnesses if anything bad went down tonight. Jeff lived back a long lane flanked by two rows of tall pines. Reminded him of a funeral procession.

Not watching where he was going, Tim knocked over a gaggle of garbage cans, their clanking magnified by the sheer emptiness of the landscape. He headed for the large pole building that served as both garage and machine shop. Jeff's dad once had a small woodworking business.

Flood lights came on and an expansive lawn appeared all around him. There was only one place to hide. He ducked into the garage.

Letting his eyes adjust, Tim searched for somewhere to hunker down. He knew Jeff wouldn't stop until he found him. There was blood in his voice, venom. Windows in the front of the building threw odd shadows over two antique cars. He half expected them to reach out and grab him. After all, anything was possible. He'd watched a paralyzed man jump out of his chair.

The door to the woodshop was a dark gash in the far wall. He hurried toward it, all the while listening for Jeff. And wishing he had eyes in the back of his head.

/././././

"Can you believe someone could fake it?" Angela folded her jacket over her arm. "That's pretty low."

Hodgins opened his mouth and then closed it. He considered mentioning a couple heads of state who pretended to be disabled etc but decided that spouting conspiracy theories was not a good idea at the moment. He answered with the simplest thing possible. _A thoughtful nod._

"Katie must have figured it out." Angela shook her head. "Yea I bet she did."

"And she threatened him." He bent down to retie his sneakers.

"Maybe she was happy for him." She stared off into space for a moment.

Hodgins brought her back to reality. "Why would they meet at that secluded spot on the trail?"

"Good point." Angela checked the time on her computer. "My feet are killing me. Call it a night?"

"Yea, there's not much more we can do here tonight, babe."

She dimmed the lights at her station and headed for the platform. Hodgins was already ahead of her; he'd forgotten something. She stood at the railing and waited, feeling the familiar flutter in her belly. Baby was tired too.

As he got closer, she straightened herself and reached for him. "She's staying over at his place again."

He knew exactly which she and him his wife meant. "I didn't think there was any question about that."

"Yea. It's kinda cute." Hodgins helped her into her coat when she got her arm stuck finding a sleeve. Her smile faded a little. "They'll never admit what they mean to each other."

"Glad I snapped a picture of them the other night."

Her face lit up. "You did what?"

"While you were nosing around in Booth's kitchen." He worked hard at remaining nonchalant on the surface. He was bubbling over with giddiness on the inside and he wanted to share it.

"You took a picture?" She raised her eyebrows almost not believing him.

He grinned.

"Why haven't I seen it?"

He shrugged and held out his phone. Angela snatched it out of his hand. "Aw, that's so adorable!"

"Yup and Booth will so totally kill us."

"Don't show it to them."

"Good idea, babe."

/././././

The work room was dark, but Jeff could hear Tim breathing above the beating of his own heart. He willed himself to focus. He had a lot of practice with being patient and biding his time.

"Come out, come out where ever you are." His words danced at the edge of the blackness.

A rustling came from his right, and he strained to make out anything recognizable. A form took shape in the pitch. Tim Raben revealed himself.

"That would be funny, Jeff, if you weren't trying to kill me."

"Trying? Who says I'm trying."

"You don't have the balls." Tim decided to play the cocky card. "You never did."

"I killed Katie." Jeff wiped sweat from his face.

"That was a lucky break. She fell and cracked her head. Your sack of coward shit just kicked her ass down the hill." He was suddenly close enough that Jeff could smell the onions on his breath. "Gee, that really took a lot of guts."

Jeff could take no more. He shoved Tim backwards, realizing too late that Tim had grabbed hold of his jacket. They both tumbled into the piled boards.


	47. Strange Ovals

_**Thanks to Urja and ****musicnlyrics**_ _**for your insights and support. :-)**_

Jeff grabbed Tim's neck and squeezed. He was surprised how easy it was to press his fingers into tender flesh, feeling muscle and tendon beneath his fingers. Even in the near dark he could see the flash of surprise in his victim's eyes. He enjoyed the sensation of ultimate control. He held a life in his hands. _How easy it would be to end it. _

Tim's arms flailed, fingers barely making a fist, grazing his captor, but he seemed too shocked to do anything to save his life. He'd been dazed a little from their tumble backwards. Jeff was quite aware of what he was doing. In fact, he'd never felt more alive.

Katie's death had been an accident. She fell and hit her head. He believed her to be dead when he couldn't feel a pulse. Panicking, he'd decided to leave her there. After a quick push, her body had simply rolled down the edge of the hill.

That day was quite different than tonight. A voice danced around his brain, urging him to keep squeezing. The two moved as a pair, a couple caught in an odd sort of dance. Tim lost his footing and suddenly he slipped from Jeff's grasp. Just like that, the triumphant moment, slipped out of his hands.

He bent down to grab Tim again, but stopped. The crunch of gravel caught his attention. Through the open door in the woodshop, he could see out the garage windows. There were headlights in the driveway. His eyes darted to his old chair resting in the corner. He smiled. His father hadn't gotten around to donating the thing, a stroke of luck. He'd had his current wheelchair for about a month, so this one wouldn't look terribly out of place.

Jeff glanced back at Tim, wondering if he was even breathing. He kicked him with no response. Grinning, he considered finishing the job, but first things first. The uninvited guests would have to be entertained.

A pounding came from somewhere. _The front door, he figured._ This gave him some time to morph back into his proper identity. Young man in a wheelchair. Someone to be pitied and protected. Slipping into his chair, he ran his hands running over the controls. He had just enough room to roll out of the shop and into the garage area. The outer door hung open so he could see the approaching police officers.

"In here officers." He'd have them on their way lickity split. Wheeled to the doorway, he shielded his eyes against the floodlights.

The two men turned his direction. Jeff caught the usual grimace when people realized that he was wheelchair bound, crippled they'd say behind his back. He put on his best act possible.

"I'm sorry I can't move faster. This old chair has been acting up. New one's in the shop."

One of the men nodded, seeming to take the lead. "My name's Riggs. This is Officer Landow. We'll need to ask you a few questions."

"Questions? About what, sir?"

Officer Landow peered around Jeff and into the garage. "You alright out here?"

"Sure. Just had to fetch a screwdriver from my dad's shop."

"With the lights off?" Officer Riggs added his two cents.

"The switch is on the far wall." Jeff motioned. "I was just heading back into the house."

"Where's the screwdriver?" Landow kept pushing. Something told Jeff he wasn't going to like this guy.

He did his best to steady himself. The garage bays were as far as they could be allowed to go. "Oh, I must have dropped it. You kinda startled me."

Officer Landow didn't back down. "Well, let me get it for you then."

Jeff couldn't refuse. The officer was passed him, flashlight in hand, before he could say or do a thing. He gritted his teeth and maneuvered into a better position. Officer Riggs tucked his notebook back into his coat pocket and followed.

"Mighty fine cars." Landow paused. "Mind if I turn on some light? I'd love to get a better look."

Again, he knew he couldn't say no. Might seem suspicious. His heart was beginning to get away with him though and he gripped his armrests, digging fingernails into the vinyl covering.

"Sure." Jeff wheeled over and flicked the closest switch.

The room was bathed in light, revealing the two gorgeous hunks of metal sitting side by side in the center of the room.

"Woo-eee." Officer Riggs walked between the '57 Chevy and the vintage Mustang. "Mighty fine vehicles. Your dad sure keeps them in great condition. Does he show them?"

"Uh yea." Jeff tried to follow the men and keep an eye on the doorway to the woodshop at the same time. "Every summer."

Officer Landow wasn't buying into anything. "So, where's that screwdriver? Must be around here somewhere."

"Maybe it rolled under here." Riggs squatted down to look under one of the cars. "Nope, don't see it."

"So where is that screwdriver, son?" Officer Landow was definitely the stickler of the pair. He just wouldn't let it go.

Jeff knew why they were there. He wished they'd shit and get off the pot. Haul his ass back to the FBI and Agent Seeley Booth. At least then they wouldn't find his ex-friend half dead on the wood shop cement. He'd lock the place up and deal with the mess later.

"Yea Jeff." A voice cut right through his spine. "Where is that screwdriver?"

He registered Tim standing about five feet away from him, eyes swollen and neck red with strange ovals. The two cops were caught off guard, and their hesitation gave Jeff the moment he needed.

He reached forward and grabbed the gun from Officer Riggs' holster. The idiot was still half crouching from searching for the screwdriver. It was like taking candy from a baby. Jeff would never forget the thrill.

"Now back out of here, both of you." Jeff motioned to the men. "Go out to your little car and call Agent Booth. He'll straighten this all out. Tell him I have Katie Jones' killer."


	48. Bruised Sky

_**Sorry it's taken so long to update. Life got in the way. :-)**_

**_When we last left our story, two of our suspects – Tim Raben and Jeff Roth – were holed up in Jeff's garage. Jeff grabs a gun from local police sent to find him and holds Tim hostage until Booth arrives. _**

_**Thank you, Urja!  
**_

_**Disclaimer extraordinaire: Of course I don't own Bones. :-) This story would be an action flick if I did...**_

The phone rang, which meant only one thing. A break in the case.

Temperance sleepily rolled over forgetting her wounded shoulder. She sat up, cradling her arm, her face a cracked mask of pain. She turned her head so Booth wouldn't see her wince. He wasn't paying attention to much though, his hand slapping the night stand in a blind search for his cell.

"Booth." His voice gruff with the leftovers of sleep. She watched his expression change from hazy to alert as he listened to the person on the other end of the line.

He snapped his phone shut. "We have Jeff Roth. And he's not alone. Claims he has Katie's killer. He's holed up with someone fitting one of the Raben twin's descriptions. The local guys are hesitant to proceed. Oh and Jeff Roth asked for me."

Booth was already pulling a pair of pants. Temperance grabbed her bag and hurried into the bathroom. They were out the door in ten minutes.

/././

Jeff ordered Tim to lock the door, angling his chair carefully. He had to keep the act up as long as he was in view of the cops, though it was becoming difficult. The well of rage inside him was begging to overflow. He wanted so badly to jump on Tim and finish the job. Right here. Right now.

He could hear more cars in the driveway, and more voices were added to the mix. This was ending one way or the other. Jeff knew he'd survive. Tim, on the other hand, might not make it out of this garage. Especially if he didn't keep his mouth shut.

Right on cue, Tim edged toward his former friend. He always was a little cocky, maybe a little too cocky, and stupid.

Tim cracked his knuckles. "You really are sad, Jeffo. A sorry excuse for a man. Katie figured you out."

Jeff backed away from Tim. He struggled to hold the gun steady.

"How'd she do it? I mean, you really had everybody fooled."

Tim watched as Jeff calmed himself, an almost instant transformation. Reminded him of a snake shedding its useless skin with the fast forward button held down.

"She couldn't leave well enough alone." The gun became an extension of his arm, solid and unyielding. His voice cold as steel.

"Come, how did she do it?" Tim wasn't backing down. "What did she see?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Come on, Jeff. We were friends. All of us."

"Once we were friends. And then I ended up in this chair."

Tim shook his head. "You know how bad we all felt."

"She would never listen to me. Not like you guys." Jeff gripped the gun with both hands. "I told her to slow down."

"Man, we were just kids."

"She was showing off."

Tim didn't have a reply. Jeff was right.

"She never listened to me." Jeff yelled as he sprang out of his chair, the gun inches from Tim's chest. "Not like you and your asshole brother."

"How did she figure it out?" Tim did not back down.

Jeff hesitated. He wiped sweat from his forehead. "She saw mud on my shoes."

"Mud?" Tim seemed lost for a moment.

"You're not too bright are you?" Jeff tapped his chair.

"Oh. Mud." Tim nodded and gave up some ground, backing away from his old friend and the gun between them.

"I told her not to tell. I begged her. But she wouldn't listen. I knew she wouldn't. She couldn't keep a secret." Jeff slipped back into his seat, his protective shell. "This time, _I_ needed the favor. She cost me my legs. And I let her get off scott free."

"But you got them back, dude. Shouldn't you be happy?" Tim backed into one of the metal poles in the garage. "Why hide it?"

"I wasn't ready."

"You like the attention you get for being crippled?"

"No. It's not that. I just wasn't ready. And I couldn't have Katie breaking the news. She already took one life from me. She wouldn't listen."

"Like a good wittle girl?"

"Shut up, Tim."

"Or what? You'll shoot me?" Tim moved closer. "Go ahead. I dare you."

/./././

Dawn had barely broken as Booth eased the SUV into Jeff's driveway. Sharp clouds hung at the edge of darkness painting everything a deep purple. The floodlights still reigned over the bruised sky, splashing the front of the house and yard with harsh artificial daylight.

"Agent Booth?" The local officer in charge jogged to meet them.

He nodded and mumbled an incoherent yea, Temperance at his heels. "What's the situation?"

"Jeff Roth is holding an unidentified male at gun point. Told us to call you. We have the building covered."

"Great, just great. I told Tim Raben to go home and stay put." Booth did little to hide his foul mood. Not only was it early, but his side ached. He glanced at his partner and didn't know how she managed to hold it all together. She was a damn good actress, if nothing else.

Another officer appeared, a little out of breath from the chilly morning, cheeks red and puffy. "We found a vehicle registered in the name of Timothy Raben about a mile up the road."

Booth groaned. "Why the hell don't people listen to me?"

"Perhaps he felt he could reason with Jeff and get him to talk to you?" Temperance made an attempt to add to the conversation.

"I doubt he came here to reason anything. He's looking to settle a score."

A loud crack split open the early morning. Birds erupted from a nearby tree. Booth yelled to take cover and threw himself in front of Temperance.

/././


	49. Mean Business

All Temperance could hear was her heart. Booth pressed her against the SUV. She felt his fingers grip her low on the waist as he shielded her with his body. She could almost taste the mint he'd popped into his mouth on the way out the door. He whispered something to her, his breath hot on her neck, but the message was garbled by the pounding in her head.

She flashed back to the Diner and the one thing she remembered from that day.

Only now it was her partner pinning her to the ground, not a bullet.

Booth changed positions, crouching beside her. He gave a quick glance toward the garage and other law enforcement officers up the driveway. One of them was talking into his radio.

"Stay here." Booth paused and set his jaw. "This time, please Bones."

She shook her head her eyes locked on his, hoping she'd conveyed how strongly she understood. Not another sound passed between them. Booth sprinted to the patrol car where the officers were huddled, keeping low.

Temperance watched from beside the SUV. The smell of rubber strong as she leaned against the tire, the cool metal of the vehicle chilling her. She gritted her teeth against the urge to follow. She couldn't help but want to be right there at his side, bringing down the bad guys even though the terror of her own shooting kept running through her mind. Maybe it was because of the flashes of sirens and disembodied voices. If she could outrun them, beat them at their game, maybe they'd leave her alone.

/././

"That was close, Jeff." Tim stumbled backward. "You almost hit me."

"There is no almost." Jeff sneered. "I just wanted to scare you."

"Sure. Right. Your aim is _that_ good."

"I want you to know I mean business."

Tim felt the urge to laugh creeping up his legs and into his belly.

"Business? You, mean business? That's a laugh. How long have you been in that chair?"

"Don't push me, Tim."

A small pool of fluid grew under the old Ford reaching Tim's feet. "Looks like antifreeze." He smeared the coolant with his ratty sneaky. "Man your dad is gonna be pissed."

"Shut up."

"And your goose is cooked anyway."

"Why do you say that?"

"Agent Booth knows I'm innocent."

"Is that so?" Jeff dropped his guard ever so slightly, his eyes wild as a thunderstorm brewing on a late day in May.

"Yea, Jeffo." Tim had no way of knowing he was overplaying his hand.

"You and Agent Booth are best buds, then right?" Jeff adjusted his grip on the gun, pointing it sideways at Tim.

"See, Katie's Senator boss had her under surveillance and me too." Tim stepped away from the growing puddle, ignoring Jeff and the gun. "So my whereabouts are known."

"What does that have to do with me?" Jeff seemed to lean forward. He vibrated with adrenaline though somehow his hand was steady, solid as a rock. His finger eager to squeeze the trigger. He searched his former friend's face. For now, it was all foreplay.

Tim edged his way along the car. "Maybe they saw you in the park too. Like I did. You were there with Katie more than once."

Jeff wouldn't let him slither away. The weapon followed Tim's movement.

"Then why didn't they come looking for her after I kicked her down the bank?" Jeff laid his ace.

"That's a good question." Booth appeared in the doorway from thin air.

Jeff tried to spin his chair around and stand up at the same time, getting himself tangled in the leg rests. Tim surged forward and knocked the gun out of Jeff's hand.

"Both of you. Freeze!" Booth bellowed, his voice cracking ever so slightly at the word freeze. His ribs screamed against his stitches. Tim dropped the gun and put his hands in the air. Jeff sat in his chair like a coiled snake.

"Don't make me shoot you, Jeff. I don't care if you're in that wheelchair."

/././

A news vulture whirred overhead. Booth read the logo on the side of the helicopter. _News Channel 4_ – it figured. They came sniffing around any time the FBI was involved with something. He wouldn't tell them a damn thing.

"Get in the car, Raben. You're lucky I'm not arresting you."

"What for?" Tim stumbled along beside Booth. His nerves of steel seemed to have melted. Booth wanted to laugh at his trying to keep up the tough act.

"Not listening to me. I told you to leave it alone."

"Couldn't do that, man. He killed my - He killed Katie. We coulda had something."

Jeff leered at them from an FBI vehicle. The cavalry had arrived just as Booth led Jeff out of the building. Tim tagged along behind them, pushing the wheelchair.

Brennan smiled from the sidelines. She'd been right about Jeff Roth. For once, her gut had told her something. Booth was indeed rubbing off on her. _Just a bit._


	50. Control Lost

"See, there was this place Katie liked to go." Tim took a sip of his water and then clutched the bottle close to his chest. "When she needed to clear her head. I'd meet her there sometimes, and we'd talk. Her job with that Senator dickhead was tough on her."

Booth didn't want to push. Besides this interview was a cake walk. He just needed to tie up a few loose ends with Tim Raben.

"That guy practically threw himself at her from day one. Said it came with the territory. Like dealing with his horny ass was part of the job." Tim tightened the lid on his water and then unscrewed it again.

"Did Jeff know about this place?" Booth steered the conversation.

"Yea, I think so. We all still kept in touch. The accident bonded us."

"Jeff wasn't angry with Katie?" Booth held his pen, poised to make a note.

"No, he knew it wasn't her fault." Tim looked down.

"She was driving the vehicle."

"Yea, but those things happen. She'd only been driving about a month."

"She couldn't keep up with you guys."

"Katie went too fast and lost control." Tim moved his mouth like he'd said those words too many times, their meaning eroded by repetition.

Agent Booth motioned to the 2-way glass where he knew his partner waited. He turned back to Tim. "Thank you for speaking with me. I'm sorry about Katie." He paused in his own sort of moment of silence. He continued before either of them could absorb the full burden. "You'll have some paperwork to fill out. And then you can go."

"It's that simple?"

Booth agreed on the outside with a polite nod. Inside, he knew this wasn't over for Tim.

"What about Jeff? What happens to him?"

"We'll take it from here." He almost added _son_ to the end of that sentence.

Tim cemented eye contact, making sure Booth understood. "You'll let me know if I can help?"

"Yea, I'll let you know." Booth softened his voice and extended his hand.

Tim shook Booth's hand. "Where's that paperwork? I gotta get to work."

/./././

"Funny thing is, surveillance footage from your local WalMart shows you climbing in and out of your mother's car like a regular – er – non-disabled person." Booth frowned. "You were so bold."

"Didn't you consider the possibility someone might see you?" Temperance added.

Jeff Roth tilted his head toward the table, his solemn face unfolded into the biggest grin and he chuckled. "No, I didn't worry. I never do." He met her gaze. "I ceased to exist the moment of that accident. Sure, I've run into people. They think they know me but keep walking. I didn't care if I got caught. What are they gonna do to me?"

No one said a word. Booth knew he was right. It would be tough to prosecute a fraud case with all the bureaucratic red tape, despite the surveillance tapes. But they sure as hell could get him for murder.

"When did it happen?" Temperance grabbed the moment. "When did you know?"

"What?" Jeff looked reasonably confused. "The accident?"

"No," Temperance stabbed at his question. "When did you regain control of your lower extremities?"

"Your legs. When did you feel your legs again?" Booth helped her out.

Jeff smiled again. "Three years ago. Thank god my Mom always insisted I do physical therapy."

"So your muscles hadn't atrophied sufficiently to prevent you from regaining the use of your legs."

"Yea, my muscles were fine. It took a few months to walk without help." He slid back from the table and rubbed his legs. "These babies are as good as new."

There was silence until Booth smashed it. "And Katie found out."

"Yea, that bitch found out."

Temperance locked eyes with Jeff. "She was smarter than you. She caught you in the act."

"What Tim didn't tell you was he and Katie were trying to get back together." He seemed uncomfortable in the chair, maybe even his own skin. "Silly girl. Those boys were never going to change. It was like some creepy romance novel."

His voice trailed off and he lowered his head. Temperance stole a quick glance at Booth. His gaze was laser focused on their prime suspect. Her eyes darted across the table.

As if Jeff could feel her looking at him, he raised his head and glared holes through her. "You had to keep pushing. Just like Katie." He straightened himself. His eyes never leaving her, he stretched his legs. "Imagine her surprise. After all those years. Scared the shit out of her when I jumped out of my chair and chased her. She tripped over the nearest rock and that was it. I wasn't gonna hurt her. No, I just wanted to shake some sense into her. I was desperate."

"And you didn't want her to change your life again." Booth's tone was hard; the edge of it could slice through glass.

"No. I couldn't let her blindside me again. Stupid bitch." He laughed. "I'll have the last laugh."

With his next breath, Jeff dove across the table, arms reaching for Temperance. Booth wedged himself between her and Jeff, shoving her chair backwards a little. She had to catch herself from falling. Booth snagged Jeff by the collar.

"I'm so happy there's a camera in here." He hissed, shaking Jeff out of his grasp and back into his seat. Booth moved around the table, cuffing Jeff in one fluid motion. "Now everyone's gonna see just how big a psycho you are. You killed Katie. You could have saved her. She drowned in that creek. You left her there to die."

Jeff smoothed his shirt, unfazed by the restraints. Emotions bubbled to the surface but they merely popped and drifted to the ceiling. He didn't act on them. He sat motionless for an endless few minutes, a silent game of wills. Then he simply began talking.

"We argued. Then she fell. I dumped her down over the bank." Jeff paused. "She rolled into the creek. There wasn't even a splash."

"You left her there." Booth slid back in his chair.

"I didn't care if anyone found her. After all, I had a solid alibi, and who would believe I could even do such a thing?" He patted his legs, seeming to forget he was not in his wheelchair.

Temperance jumped into the conversation. "Physical impairment does not confer innocence, Mr. Roth." Booth cut her off by clearing his throat.

"She was going to reveal your secret." He leaned toward their suspect.

"Yea, I had to stop her. I didn't mean to kill her."

"She was alive when you left her there." Temperance meant to upend his assumption. There could be no escape for Jeff. "We found evidence of water in her lungs. She drowned."

"No way, man." He focused on Booth. "She wasn't breathing. I checked."

"You could have made an anonymous call once you were away from the park. You left her there to die alone." Booth raised his voice gradually as he spoke. "Instead, you covered up your crime. You just didn't count on her washing up somewhere."

"I didn't care." Jeff balanced his chair on two legs, cuffed hands in his lap. "I stopped worrying about it after a couple weeks."

"Until Tim kept pushing." Booth began pacing.

"I didn't mean to hurt him." The sneer on his face made it clear he was not telling the truth.

"Just another person who knew your secret."

Jeff set the chair on all four legs again. "He had to be stopped."

Temperance tapped the table. "You would have killed him, too, if we hadn't stopped you."

"Nah, we were just talking." Jeff shook his head, some of the sneer sliding into the smoothest smile. "All I ever wanted was to talk."

"With a gun?" Booth deadpanned.

Jeff pushed away from the table again. "Come on, man, you weren't there. I was defending myself."

"Tim figured it all out. He was gonna turn you in, and you freaked out." Booth shuffled the papers in front of him, slipping everything into a folder. "It's all over for you now, Jeff. You can't hide behind a wheelchair anymore."


	51. Picture Perfect

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. I just can't get the characters out of my head.**_

A day had passed since Jeff Roth was hauled off to prison. The feeling of satisfaction at the Jeffersonian was mixed also with relief and a bit of exhaustion. Everyone knew Cam's job had been on the line and possibly theirs as well. Temperance could now retreat into her own world a little, if she chose. Somebody else had other plans.

"Ya know, I haven't said anything." Booth appeared in the doorway. He put his head down, hands in his pockets as the words faded into silence.

He sidled into her office like a boy either about to beg for extra allowance or confess to breaking a window. She found it attractive and awkward at the same time. Awkward because, she understood what he meant.

"You've said many things today, Booth." She gathered her notes and shuffled them into the file folder on her desk, trying very hard not to make eye contact with her partner.

"No, that's not what I mean. I've been avoiding a subject."

"You've been avoiding a subject?" Temperance tilted her head and offered him what she hoped was her best crack at a genuine expression of confusion.

He combed his hair with one large hand, and a faint hissing sound whistled through his teeth as he exhaled into the next sentence. "Please don't play dumb with me, Bones."

"I never play dumb, Booth." She pushed away from her desk, a rather serious glint to her eyes.

"Stop repeating things then." He put his hands in his pockets again and did his best to hide another sigh. "And stop avoiding the subject."

"Why don't you simply tell me to which subject you are referring? I may have a very high IQ but I have not developed my mind reading skills yet."

This statement snagged him. Temperance was being smart with him. Fighting the urge to either laugh or growl, he kicked a leg of her desk. Her face, though, remained a mask of noncommittal. He decided to back off a little, give her a chance to come around.

"Well, maybe we better save this conversation for tonight. I have to finish my paperwork." This was a throwaway line. He'd already finished his work for the case. He decided he would continue this discussion in a better place. One where his partner might feel safe to open up a little more. Not here where logic reigned supreme.

"Tonight then." She smiled.

/./././

Later, still in her office, she had given up working. She was pretending, keeping a rather stern expression on her face. She hoped to appear to be concentrating, though the effort had spawned a headache.

With a sigh, Temperance sank back into the couch. The Jeffersonian was quiet this late in the day. She knew the others were still around but the lab platform had been deserted most of the day. Everyone seemed to be hibernating. This gave her a chuckle when she considered comparing bears and humans.

This had been a good day. She'd had a chance to read through some science journals she'd been keeping on her desk, and the paperwork for the Katie Jones case was simple enough. She only needed to add her notes to Booth's and complete the necessary forms. She'd finished most of it before lunch, but for some reason the rest languished in a folder in the center drawer of her desk.

Something gnawed at her. Earlier in the day she believed it had something to do with Katie, Jeff and Tim, or maybe the creepy Senator. Now, after going over all the evidence in her mind and considering the case as a whole, she decided something else was bothering her. Something else was left unfinished.

_Booth._

It had to be Booth. _Of course it was Booth._ There was no other rational conclusion.

Temperance closed the book in her lap, giving up any hope of reading the chapter she'd been staring at for the past hour. She couldn't wrap her mind around her disconcerting need to have Booth curl up beside her at night. Pausing in the middle of a thought, she found it odd that things hadn't progressed past actual sleeping.

She always figured they'd find their way to intercourse. The question was _when_.

/././././

Angela bounced into the room. She was all set to tell her best friend some important news. And then she saw her face.

"You look tired, Bren. Why don't you go home?" She pushed aside her desire to tell Temperance about the baby. This could wait a little while longer.

Temperance closed the folder perched in her lap. "I possess the appropriate amount of stamina required to complete my duties. I will finish this paperwork and then go home."

Angela watched her friend's face unfold into something other than a smile. There was no sign of relief in those eyes. Most of all, Angela had a vague sense her friend was lying to her.

"Sweetie, aren't you happy this case is over?"

"Relieved yes. I'm satisfied we solved Katie's murder. Happy…" Her voice lingered on the last syllable and then was silent.

"What is it?" Angela put her hands on her hips. "Something with Booth?"

Temperance raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. Angela nodded. "So it is Booth."

There was a pause as Angela studied her friend. Then she rolled her eyes and shook her head. "It's always Booth."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Temperance sprang from the couch.

Angela backed up a bit, half grinning. She knew she'd pressed a sensitive button. In her opinion, and she offered them without hesitation, this button should have been pushed a long time ago and many times. "It means you and Booth need to have a serious talk. The sooner the better."

Angela hugged her best friend.

"I don't know what you mean. Things are fine with me and Booth." She disentangled herself from Angela and gathered her purse and keys, tucking several files under her arm. "I'm meeting him for a drink right now."

"Wait." Angela reached into her bag and grabbed her phone. With a few quick motions, she held up the device so Temperance could see the picture on the screen. "Jack took it."


	52. Dinner Dance

Temperance eased her car into the intersection. A non-descript motorcade had tied traffic into more than the usual snarl. Rush hour was the logical result of everyone in the District leaving work at the same time. She expected the tie ups and even planned the time into her day, using the time to think or listen to notes from cases. Today her mind was elsewhere, occupied by an image on a cell phone screen.

The picture had startled her. She knew she'd been sleeping with Booth. They'd been sharing a bed for weeks. She couldn't avoid it now. Angela and Hodgins had proof.

Her phone buzzed and a quick check revealed a text from Booth. _Come home. Making dinner._

/./././

Temperance set her bag on the coffee table. "I'm very hungry. Thank you for making dinner."

Booth grinned. He wore a red apron which said Kiss the Cook in big white letters across the chest. When he turned around to finish his ministrations, she noticed there were several lip prints on the bottom of the back of the apron. Temperance chuckled.

"You like my apron?" He twirled around. "Gift from Rebecca."

"How is she by the way?" She peeled off her coat, being careful of her shoulder out of habit now. "And Parker too?"

"They're both great."

She headed for the bathroom. The clogged commute home had been hell on her bladder. "Great. I'll be right back, Booth. I must-"

He cut her off. "I know. Go freshen up."

When Temperance reappeared, the small table was set with real plates. She smiled. She'd always wondered if he had anything other than the paper kind. He always complained he had no dish washer.

Spaghetti with marinara was the center piece of a simple dinner course. There was also a mixed green salad tossed with carrots and tomatoes, a large chunk of toasted bread, and glasses for wine.

"Everything's vegetarian. Even the cannolis in the fridge." He seemed very pleased with his efforts. Motioning for her to take a seat, he began to slide her chair toward the table.

"Thanks Booth, but I can manage." Something passed through his eyes. Rather than say something about social mores and feminist conventions, Temperance let him serve her.

He poured her a glass of wine and filled her plate with a spoonful of noodles. Then he did the same for himself. Pausing, he took a quick sip of his wine, making a face but recovering just as quickly. He should have stuck with beer.

Much to his surprise, she reached across the table and took his hand. "I know you like to say words of thanks before we eat."

He squeezed her hand and his whole face melted into a smile. Then, he closed his eyes. She watched with curious amazement. He slowly and softly said a little prayer. "Thank you God for this food. And for getting us through this tough case. Thank you for keeping us safe."

"But he didn't. I was shot and you were stabbed." The words jumped out of her mouth.

He pursed his lips and then continued. "Thank you for my partner and your bottomless well of patience."

"Amen." She added. He gave her the oddest look and then dug into his food. She did the same, and a pleasant silence passed between them for the first time in weeks.

/./././

"So, did you tell her?" Jack had waited until they were home before broaching the subject.

Angela proved a little oblivious to his question. "Tell her what?"

His eyes grew wide. He knew the answer right away but pressed on with the conversation. It was too late to turn back as he watched the emotions unfold on her face. "You didn't tell her?"

Recognition flooded her eyes pushing the smile right off her face. "No, I didn't tell her."

He reached out and touched her hand. "Sorry, Ange."

She shook off her disappointment. "It's okay. We'll have lunch tomorrow. I'll tell her then. No need to be sorry about anything."

She smiled and leaned in for a quick kiss. Jack took her hand and led her to the bed. No need to feel bad about anything. He liked that about her. She let her hair hang over the edge of the bed, looking at him upside-down.

"I showed her the picture."

His mouth fell open and for a moment, his blue eyes took up most of his face. "You did what?"

"I showed Brennan the picture." Angela rolled over and sat up. "She needed a pick me up."

"So she took it well."

"She didn't seem to care."

"Oh man. And you believed her?"

"You're making too big of a deal out of it. She knows she's been basically shacking up with Booth."

"Yea babe, but I don't think she's actually dealt with it on a conscious level."

"Well, maybe I gave her a little nudge."

"More like a shove." He flopped beside her and then sat straight up. "You just showed it to her right?"

She nodded, looking a little curious.

He sighed with a bit of relief. "So she doesn't have it on her phone?"

Angela shook her head. She was beginning to see where this was going as her mouth opened into a smile. "You're afraid Booth will see it."

She started laughing. Jack feigned a hurt look. "It's not funny."

"Oh Jack, but it is funny." She grabbed her purse from the nearby dresser, retrieving her phone.

He got the joke. "What are you doing?" And he didn't like it. "No, don't do that."

She'd already begun pressing buttons and sliding the screen to find Booth's number with as much drama as possible. A huge grin on her face. Jack gently tackled his wife and they wrestled for the phone amidst a sea of giggles.

/././././

"The spaghetti was delicious." Temperance knew it had come from the little Italian place down the street. She'd seen the containers in the trash peeking out from under the crinkly shell of a bag of potato chips.

She stacked their plates, placing them in the sink. He gave her a nudge with his hips and began the process of cleaning up dinner. Booth grinned as he wrapped up the leftover pasta. "Midnight snack." He all but grunted.

She wanted to tell him his midnight raids to the refrigerator were a likely cause of his morning indigestion, but she didn't say a word. The pair settled into a groove of washing and drying and soon found themselves in the living room.

"Angela has a picture of us on her phone." She blurted out of nowhere.

Booth took the comment in stride. "I bet she has lots of pictures of us at work."

"Not at work, Booth."

This stopped him. He searched his mind for any recent instances when they were all together. Coming up empty, he decided to play 20 questions.

"At the Diner?"

She shook her head.

"At Founding Fathers then."

Again a negative.

"When did she take this picture?" He ran back further remembering the long night he'd spent by her bedside at the hospital. "Not at the hospital?"

"No and I'm not sure of an exact date."

He searched her face. "Yes you are. You know exactly when it was taken. I bet you thought about it the whole ride home."

Looking down, she ran her finger along the seam of the pillow she clutched to her chest. "It was the day you were stabbed. When we came back here. We fell asleep on the couch."

"And the grocery fairies snapped a picture of us."

"I know, aren't they terrible?" Temperance raised an eyebrow. He smiled.

"Well, can I see it?"

"I'll ask Angela to send it to both of us."

Booth folded his arms behind his head and reclined the chair. He flicked the channel from the news to a movie, hoping to settle in for the night.

Then Temperance fractured the moment.

"I can't reflect," She shivered and then took a long breath. "I can't reflect on this past year without encountering loss and loneliness. Two sensations caused by chemical reactions in our – "

Booth leaned toward her, closing the chair with a clang. And then in the next blink, he was hovering over her, preventing her from moving. Their noses were all but touching. She feared her sudden trembling would bridge the gap between them before they were ready.

"Then this is all chemical. It's all science." He touched his lips to her cheek, drifting slowly until he reached her ear. After one measured exhale, he continued, "All this is nothing but animal instinct. There's nothing to learn from it. It's just there to fulfill some biological process."

She couldn't deny his logic, yet she knew he didn't mean it. He wanted more than animal instinct. He believed in fairy tales. She turned her head to get away from him but ended up pulling him closer, their lips pressed together. Neither moved.

For a second, she felt like she was sitting on a fireball. She wanted to jump out of the chair and run from the room. But she didn't move; he didn't move. She opened her eyes to find his closed. So she did the one thing she knew would get his attention.

She kissed him. He didn't even try to hide a shudder so she kissed him again with her mouth ever so slightly open, his lip tasting sweet. _How many times had she wanted to lick the foam off his lips when he treated himself to a milkshake?_ The thought floated away when he responded by kissing her back. She leaned forward to steady him, to keep their bodies close, but lost her balance.

The pair tumbled to the floor. The moment was almost too much to process. Temperance laughed until she caught the wince Booth tried to mask as he sat up.

"Your sutures?"

He nodded and stood up using the chair for support.

"Yea," he straightened his back slowly. "Still smarts a little."

She sat there for a moment, staring up at him. Then he offered her his hand. She batted it away.

"You shouldn't exert yourself any further, Booth. We could stress your wound."

"Stress my wound?" He took a step toward her and grabbed her hands. "You mean like this?" He pulled her off the floor and into his arms.


	53. Spoiled Rewards

So things were different. And in a good way. Booth couldn't help but grin.

He watched Temperance sleep. It was different than nights before. This time, she was his. They wouldn't call it anything or even speak of it much more. For now.

He felt his lips, remembering her kiss. He'd always expected her to be technical like an examination. She surprised him with her hesitation. None of that lasted but a few seconds though as they'd melted into each other's arms. Just holding on to one another seemed to be its own reward.

Now, she slept in his bed, one arm folded underneath her, mending wing draped on an extra pillow. He didn't want to think about how easily things could go wrong. Their jobs gave them enough ammunition.

She sighed and moved a little. He backed away from the doorway, not wanting her to catch him spying. She frowned on his protective nature. Booth didn't care. He wasn't going to lose her.

The conclusion of this case brought the hope of a little vacation. One they could take together this time rather than scattering to different corners of the Earth. First there was the mandatory paperwork to wrap up and a celebratory round of drinks with the rest of the team.

Booth wanted to skip it all. They had better things to do.

/././././

Cam sat on the edge of her bed, deep in thought. She still hadn't been able to shake the feeling of unfinished business. The case had been all but closed. Everything seemed to be in order, yet things just didn't add up. The cop in her shouted she was missing something. She just couldn't place what was bothering her.

She decided to stay up a little longer. Let her brain chew on things a little longer. Taking a sleeping pill tonight didn't feel right either. There was too much at stake, yet she didn't know what.

She figured if she threw herself into some busy work maybe she'd put herself to sleep, so she went into the kitchen to grab the mail she'd left piled on the counter for two days. Tossing bills into one pile and junk into another she stood there in nothing but her robe, sorting the mail. Trying to bring some order to her clouded thoughts. It seemed to help.

She hummed a song Michelle kept playing over and over again wishing she could get it out of her head. She smiled though thinking about Michelle. She was a great change in her life.

Then, everything stopped. A plain envelope with handwritten block letters snapped her to attention. Her heart raced. After cases like Howard Epps and the Gormogon, she was ever so careful about the mail.

She didn't have any gloves but carefully surveyed the envelope. There were no postage markings, no stamp at all, and no return address. _How did it get delivered?_ Not taking anymore risks, she grabbed a Ziploc bag from a nearby drawer and slipped the letter inside, intending to show Booth in the morning. The team could open the thing in the safe confines of the lab.

Now she decided was an excellent time to take that sleeping pill after all. Otherwise, she wouldn't catch a wink.

/./././

The room was dark and quiet. Booth could barely hear her breathing. He slipped under the covers trying very hard not to wake her.

"Bones." He tested with water with a whisper to see if she was asleep and shivered as he realized she was naked.

She slid against him. "Is this what you want?"

Booth bristled in spite of himself. "What?"

"We solved the case. A particularly difficult one." Her breasts pushed against him. Hard nipples sending electricity through his body.

"So this is my reward?"

His response to her hardening in more ways than one. He wanted to shake her and at the same time grab her and show her just what she did to him.

"This isn't how I want it."

"Then how do you want it, Booth?" She sat up arm unconsciously shielding her breasts. "Would you like to take me out to dinner? A movie? A box of candies? Or perhaps we should wait until we're properly married with all the legal and spiritual rituals?"

"Married? Really Bones?"

He pulled away from her and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I have to think about this one. Woo boy. Marriage." The twinkle in his eyes would have given him away if she'd have seen his face. "All I wanted was some comfort sex with my partner and best friend."

He stretched out again, though this time without covering himself. "I'll have to take a moment to-"

She cut him off by throwing the sheet over both of them and climbing on top of him. His heart raced, yet he felt drugged, like he was experiencing this from outside of his body. He could feel himself bursting at the seams and he craved a release. She drew him in and held him there, riding out that first wave like they'd been doing it for ever.


	54. After Before

Booth thought about taking the day off. He could hear the shower, and the temptation to join her was clouding his judgment. When his phone buzzed across the counter, his eyes traced its movement, careful not to let it hit the floor. It was a doorway to another world. The real one.

He checked the caller ID, and then spun the phone away from the counter's edge. _Cam._ He better pick it up or he wouldn't hear the end of it. He couldn't shirk his duties simply because he and his partner had sex two times the previous night.

He could hear the shower still running. Sweating, he loosened his tie at the thought of her naked and wet, gritting his teeth against an impending hard-on. The phone continued to dance across the counter top, Cam's insistence echoed in the ringing. He picked up the phone, pressing himself into the lower cupboard door.

/./././

Cam was surprised it took so long for Booth to answer. She was already at work, staring at the letter under the lights of an exam table. He normally picked up by the third ring, mostly sooner. A certain forensic anthropologist flashed in her mind. She hoped the two of them could get it together. She wished Booth would just answer his phone.

And answer he did, sounding a little gruff. There was something about the growl in the back of his voice that raised the hair on her arms.

"Booth?"

"Yea Cam."

Booth and Temperance had sex. She knew it.

"Good morning."

"Yea Cam."

He was impatient and tense. He was thinking about more sex. She had to take a deep breath at that thought. The man still had that power of her.

"I have something I'd like to show you. A letter. I found it in my mail last night."

She could swear he cleared his throat at the word letter. And then he stuttered.

"A letter?"

"Block script, no postage. Just a plain white envelope with what looks like a single sheet of paper inside." Cam held the baggie by the zipper end with tweezers.

"You haven't opened it?"

"No, I'm waiting to follow proper procedure."

His sigh was audible and made her shiver a little.

"Good call."

"I'll take a look at it this morning once I get through a briefing."

There was a pause and the line crackled a bit. A female murmured something in the background. Cam cringed at the throaty voice. She felt like she was eaves dropping.

"I don't know if it warrants that, Booth. I'll have Hodgins take a look at it."

"I'll be there, Cam." He could have added _and that's final_ but the tone of his voice said it all.

/././././

"Somebody got their beauty sleep last night." Angela grinned from across the room.

Temperance looked up from the pile of folders on her desk. "I'm not sure what you mean by that. But yes, I am well rested this morning."

Angela got closer, discerning eyes not leaving her best friend as if she were examining evidence for a case.

"Your hair is down. You never do that in the lab." She walked around the desk, Temperance following her with a curious gaze. "You have lip gloss on. You are beaming, Bren. I mean, absolutely beaming."

Hodgins popped his head into the room. "Cam wants everyone in her office."

Both girls jumped, the moment gone.

/./././

"How did you not open this last night?" Booth leaned against the wall. His eyes followed Temperance as she entered the room. He saw the slightest blush as she did her best not to look at him. "I'm surprised you didn't call us all in at 3am."

"Dude, don't give her any ideas."

Cam ignored Hodgins. "Well, I wanted to follow protocol. I don't want any of you taking any chances with suspicious items in your mail here or at home."

A look passed among all of them. They'd been sent all manner of things in the mail over the years, mostly body parts. This thing didn't look like anything more than junk mail.

"It was late when I discovered the envelope and I decided it could wait until morning. I'm sure it's nothing." She put on the mask and held the letter up to the light. "There's no evidence of powder. It appears to be a single sheet of paper of some kind."

"Then why are you acting like its radioactive?" Booth's hands went to his hips and he leaned in a little. "Just tear it open."

With a quick zip, the letter was open and the plain sheet of paper in her hands. Cam examined the message.

_Katie won't be the only one to go missing._

"What does it say?"

"Um, I."

"Are you okay, Cam?"

"Yes, it's nothing. Probably left over from the Katie Jones case. I haven't looked at my mail for almost a week."

"If you're babbling like that, Cam, it must be something." Booth moved closer. "Let me take a look at it."

She stepped aside so he could read the letter.

"Okay, that's creepy." His tone of voice was mildly sarcastic, while his mind raced to his own letter. He hadn't shown Cam.

"And it's probably nothing, Booth."

The others took their turn examining the paper. Angela nudged Temperance, and she whispered something quick in Angela's ear. Booth cleared his throat.

"Still, you guys should run your tests. See if there's any prints."

Hodgins took the tweezers, carefully sliding the letter and envelope back into the plastic baggie. "I'll take a look at it."

Angela and Temperance followed Hodgins. Temperance gave Booth a wave, and then the two friends disappeared around a corner, more whispering in their wake. Cam looked at the silver table and caught her breath. The letter was a little creepy. Booth was right.

"You should go to lunch with Bones and Angela. Take your mind off the letter." He didn't want her sitting alone in her office.

Cam laughed. "You're funny, Seeley."

"Don't call me-" He paused and laughed. "Go to lunch. Tell Bones I invited you."

"Nah, I think those two have something to talk about."

"We're not in the second grade, Cam. Just go."

She knew she wouldn't go anywhere for lunch. A small lunch bag was already tucked in a bottom drawer. An apple and an energy bar. She always had work to finish, paperwork, emails. Plus she knew Angela had something important to tell Temperance, and she wouldn't get between the two friends. She sometimes still felt like a third wheel.

"I'm safe here Booth. Don't worry." She elbowed him trying to be funny. He let himself relax a little. Angela and Temperance would be together at lunch, and Cam and Hodgins would be safe at the lab.

/././././

Once they were out of ear shot of the others, Angela let go of her friend's arm.

"You don't think both letters are related, do you?" The question came out in a rush of worry.

Temperance shrugged. "Without examining the letters, I have no way to answer your question."

"Come on, Bren." She wanted to say much more but always erred on the side of not hurting her friend's feelings. "Speculate."

"Okay." Angela was shocked she caved so easily. Temperance continued. "From what I remember, Booth's letter had the same block lettering and simple paper and envelope. Both things could be a coincidence since maintaining anonymity is a primary concern of the person sending the letter. The childish handwriting is easily produced, though if a trained graphologist examined the message, they would likely notice differences. The plain envelope and paper could have been taken from any office, home or work."

"Point taken." Angela waved her hand. "It's still creepy."

Temperance gave her friend the biggest smile, grabbing her hand. "Let's get outta here." Angela loved when her best friend tried to be silly. She loved the effort.

"Well, I'm not really hungry after the letter, but I'll go." Only because there was something she needed to say to Temperance.

"Actually, Ange, I find I have quite the appetite today. I'm rather looking forward to lunch." Temperance wiggled her eyebrows.

"An appetite?"

Angela knew the look. It had just been a while since she'd seen her friend show up to work with this kind of glow.

"Yes, Ange. An appetite." Temperance winked one of her exaggerated winks that always made her best friend either cringe or shake her head.

"Oh Sweetie, why can't you just come out and tell me you and Booth had sex?"

Neither girl said anything for a few minutes. They gathered their things and were at the Diner before they knew it, the lunch crowd buzzing around them. Temperance picked at her food looking decidedly less hungry than she professed. Angela took a deep breath and folded her napkin in her lap.

"Bren, I have something to tell you."

Temperance looked up from her fries and salad.

"I'll just come right out and say it." Angela could feel her heart revving a little. She didn't know why she was so anxious. She swallowed her nerves and came right out with her news. "I'm pregnant!"

"Wow Ange. That's great." She jumped up and awkwardly hugged her friend at the table, sliding back into her seat only after a poke from Angela.

Temperance sipped her drink. "I believed your increase in girth to be a result of the lower standards of hygiene a monogamous relationship usually produces."

"Increase in girth? Is there a compliment in there somewhere?" Angela broke the promise to herself to let any and all reactions from her best friend slide. "You make it sound like I'm a cow or a very large tree trunk."

"That's silly, Angela. A healthy weight gain is anywhere from ten to twenty pounds. Some women gain more. I'm guessing you've gained about fifteen pounds so far?"

Temperance looked under the table. "And I can see pedal oedema has caused you to change your style of footwear as well. I can't believe I didn't notice that."

"You're too busy shacking up with Booth."

This time it was Temperance who had to remember to close her mouth.

"Sorry Bren. But it's true."

Temperance broke eye contact and stabbed a hunk of tomato. Seeds squirted out hitting her blouse. She shot backwards in the chair, dabbing herself with a napkin.

"Ange, I have something to do before I return to the lab." She grabbed her purse, pulling a few bills out of a side pocket. "This should cover my meal."

And she was gone.


	55. Working Lunch

_**Here's a little nibble for all of you waiting for a new chapter. Thank you as always for reading. :-)**_

"Sweets, I have this letter." Booth switched the phone from one ear to the other. "I want you to take a look at it." A pause. "Yes, I'd like your opinion."

Booth hadn't planned to spend his lunch hour with the kid shrink, but he had a ball of guilt gnawing at his gut. Food wouldn't be a good idea. He glanced at the file on his desk.

He waited only about three minutes. Sweets happened to be just down the hall, chatting with another agent about an upcoming review. Booth had to hide a grin as the other agent grimaced when Sweets said he'd see him again soon. Nobody liked the head shrinker outside of his profiling skills. He gave them all the willies or bored them to death.

Booth hesitated as he closed his office door, glancing around to make sure there weren't any friendly faces out in the hall. He wanted their discussion to remain private and uninterrupted. Handing Sweets the folder, he remembered he'd tucked his own letter in there. He had to play it cool.

It took Sweets less than a minute to render a judgment. "You should have come to me sooner."

"I've kept Bones by my side day and night."

An eyebrow raise from the younger man made Booth want to shove him.

"Don't even start, Sweets."

"Don't start what, Agent Booth? Why don't you fill me in on what's troubling you?"

"Today is the longest she's been out of my sight since." Booth cleared his throat. "Since she got shot."

"She did spend at least one night without you. She called me."

Booth cocked his head to one side. "Bones called you?"

"Yea, an odd conversation about sleep walking and balcony doors left open. I dismissed it as a pain pill fueled call. Kinda like a drunk dial."

"A drunk dial? Sweets, what are you talking about? Some country song?"

"Why yes, Booth, there is a song about-"

Booth cut him off with a jab of a look. Sweets cleared his throat.

"Can we get back on subject, Sweets?"

"Okay Booth." Sweets took a deep breath. "From your notes here, I gather you connect Gina to these letters. Can you tell me why you suspect her?"

Booth's upper lip curled slightly. "Call it a gut reaction."

The younger man nodded and looked at his expensive wingtips.

"What Sweets?"

"There's something I haven't told you."

"What?"

"Concerning Gina, what kind of relationship-"

Booth held up his hand and shook his head. "None of your business."

"She became my business."

"What are you talking about? Why would my ex-what-ever-she-was be any of your concern?"

"She applied to the FBI."


	56. Obsess Prey Love

_**Here's another little nugget. :-) I'm thankful to have internet this morning with Sandy raining on my Monday. Be safe everyone.**_

_**As always, thank you for reading. I'd love to know what you think of the story.  
**_

_**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Bones. I'd give you all a new episode this week if I did!  
**_

"Gina applied to the FBI, and I was assigned to evaluate her."

Booth motioned for Sweets to elaborate.

"While your relationship with her at the time was a consideration, it was not the only troubling factor."

"My relationship with Gina was a troubling factor?"

Sweets chose not to answer that question and went on with his analysis. "Her rash behavior in a war zone was documented by her commanding officer. Definite delusions of grandeur and anti-social behavior. On several occasions, she chose to ignore orders. In one instance, she found a target on her own and-"

The color drained from Booth's face. "I never knew about any of this."

"Things were kept quiet. She was the first female sniper to be attached to a combat brigade, and certain parties didn't want there to be any negative publicity."

"So someone covered it up?"

"Yes." Sweets opened the folder and surveyed the letters again. "The FBI didn't have to take the same chances."

"So that's it, you looked at her file and gave them your opinion?"

"Yes and no." Sweets loosened his tie. "I also interviewed Gina."

"Face to face?" Booth raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. She didn't mention any of this to you?"

Booth shook his head.

"By her level of comments about you, Booth, I'm surprised. Gina displayed definite obsessive markers. You were mentioned several times in my conversation with her."

"Why didn't you tell me any of this, Sweets?" Booth glared across the desk.

"Regulation."

He considered grabbing Sweets by his well starched collar, but pushed away the idea, mostly due to their seating arrangements. He knew he couldn't reach him without knocking a few things off his desk. At the moment, he wasn't in the mood to clean up a mess.

"Don't give me that regulation bs. You could have dropped a few hints."

"I recommended the FBI pass on her application."

"You did what?" This time Booth lurched forward before he stopped himself. Sweets reacted instinctively and slid his chair backward a bit as he replied, his voice shaky and higher pitched.

"I noted her obsessive comments relating to you, as well as the reports from her commanding officer. And there was something else." Sweets bit his lip and fumbled with the papers, moving closer to the desk again after a breath or two.

Booth loomed from across the desk, the force of his frustration enough to make Sweets cringe. "Spill it, shrink boy."

"She made me feel like a mouse."

"What are you talking about?"

"She made me feel like a mouse." Sweets loosened his collar. "Right before the hawk gets him."


	57. Troubled Relationship

Cam didn't go to lunch. She didn't even bother to ask Temperance or Angela. To tell the truth, she treasured a few quiet minutes to herself in the middle of the day. She could walk the halls of the Jeffersonian, picking the route to match her mood, so many exhibits, so much beauty. Or she could simply sit in her office with the lights off and pretend she wasn't there. She liked those moments best. The soothing hum of the lab in the background yet removed from the action. Hodgins inevitably tinkered with his latest experiment while the watchful eyes of his wife were elsewhere. Cam would watch him sneak around the platform like he thought no one was watching. She imagined him mumbling conspiratorial ramblings under his breath. He was full of theories, some outrageous and others she'd care not to consider.

She knew Sweets would be calling soon. He'd taken it upon himself to give Cam reviews of her people each week. Of course, the primary focus was Booth and Temperance. The edict had actually come straight from the top in a roundabout way. The Director didn't want the team splitting up again. Sweets would never let on, though. He did enjoy soaking up the credit.

Checking her watch, she tucked the remnants of her sad lunch into her desk, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. Just as she watched it float to the bottom of the trash can, her desk phone jingled its little tune. Sure enough, she glanced at the caller ID and it revealed the general line for the Hoover building. Sweets was always punctual.

As Cam answered her phone, Angela popped into the room with a troubled look on her face. Any expectations of a carefree afternoon melted and a hard ball formed in her chest. Cam took an extra big breath to try to override the terrible feeling forming there in the middle of her body. She shuddered as Angela opened her mouth to speak.

/./././

"Back for more?" Booth looked up from the pile of paperwork threatening to tumble to the floor. Sweets was the last person he'd expected to bug him. He'd been lost in thoughts stacking up like the files on his desk. _How could he have been such a fool about Gina?_

On any other day, Sweets would have grinned and come up with a somewhat witty quip. Not today. The two men had already faced off once. Sweets rushed to the center of the room, phone dangling from his fingers like it had stung him.

"Dr. Brennan is missing." The words somersaulted out of his mouth. He sounded almost out of breath.

"What are you talking about Bones is missing?" Booth pushed away from his desk and stood up, his weekly paperwork cascaded to the carpet with a soft whoosh.

Sweets backed up a little, tucking his cell phone into an inside jacket pocket. "Cam said she didn't come back from lunch."

"What? She had lunch with Ange." Booth relaxed just a smidge, and then stiffened again. "Wait. Why were you talking to Cam?"

"You know I have to give her a report each week, a psychological review of the two of you."

Booth couldn't tell if Sweets was joking. This thought was nowhere near as important as the next. _Was Bones missing?_ He shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Alright, slow down a minute. Why does anyone think Bones is missing? Where's Ange?"

Sweets shrugged. "Angela came back from lunch alone. Apparently the two had an argument or something. Has Dr. Brennan called you?"

A low rumble began in Booth. His hands felt strangely numb. He rubbed them on his pants. "No, I haven't heard from her all day."

He checked his phone and cursed under his breath. "My phone's off. Darn battery."

"Did you have some sort of falling out?"

"What? What are you talking about Sweets? I'm not discussing our relation-"

The kid psychologist lit up. Every inch of him seemed to glow for a brief flash. Booth's frown calcified and he leaned closer to Sweets. "Go ahead, I dare you. Ask me about Bones again."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Booth."

"You heard me say relationship." He dug his forefinger into the shoulder of an expensive suit. "Now you wanna do your little happy dance all over it."

Booth backed away and shook his head. He'd slipped a little, and they both knew it. But in this moment, nothing mattered except a phone call he dreaded making. He dialed Cam and waited.

"Hey Cam."

The color drained from his face, and the world around them moved in slow motion.

"I'll be right there."

Booth grabbed his jacket and both men hurried to the parking garage.


	58. Calm Missing

/./././

_Missing, missing, missing. Her best friend was missing._

The words kept repeating in Angela's head. She had to remind herself to breathe.

_How could Brennan be missing? They just had lunch together._

There was no sign of Temperance. She didn't come back from lunch. Repeated calls to her cell went straight to voicemail. Her car was on the street near the Diner. She wasn't at her place or Booth's apartment. How could she have disappeared that quickly and without anyone seeing a thing?

Angela bounced between disbelief and anger. Then she settled into despair, holding her belly and worrying her baby would never know her best friend. And it was all her fault.

She banished the thought and scolded herself.

Pacing the office, she tidied up her desk, blasting music. So frenzied was her mood. She couldn't sit still. No one could soothe her, not even Hodgins. She wanted to go looking for her best friend, search her apartment for any shred of a clue. They'd all been told to sit still for now. _Did they realize how impossible that was?_

Angela grabbed her phone and dialed the familiar number again. The result was the same. _Straight to voicemail every time._

/././././././

Temperance screamed. She'd opened her mouth to breathe, and this terrible sound had escaped. At first she didn't think she'd done it. She looked around the dim room for another person, but saw no one. She decided to be more judicious with her movements. With every attempt to lift her head, pain lit up her thoughts. It seemed to be a living creature, separate from herself. This thing crept through her body, stopping her breath and tightening her muscles, while her mind raced.

_Where was she? What happened? How did she get there?_ She did remember a face. _Gina._

Closing her mouth, she fought for calm, rational thought. She could get just enough air from one nostril if she concentrated. Temperance closed her eyes to collect her thoughts into an organized file rather than the scattered mess they were now. Another deep breath should do the trick, if she could just manage to get one.

Light came from high above her through what seemed to be a grate in the ceiling, giving her the feeling of being at the bottom of a well. At least there was light. Darkness would have killed her. Memories of being buried alive flirted with her flimsy grip on reality. She fought to contain those frivolous, unproductive thoughts. An accelerated heart beat would not be helpful right now. Extreme fear could kill you if you allowed yourself to react to it.

A cursory check of her face with a fairly unsteady hand shocked her, so she didn't go back for more. Her airways were mostly clear and what blood she did feel seemed to be clotting. Without further inspection she wouldn't be able to tell anything more. For now, she knew she had to get through these first shock filled moments.

She didn't know how long she'd been there, as there were no windows or sounds to help identify this place as anything other than a dimly lit, damp, cool room with a dirt floor. Nothing on the block walls, no adornments or furniture. She wasn't even bound in any manner, though her coat seemed to be missing.

She shivered and curled into a ball. This sent her new friend, pain, shooting through her midsection, and for a moment she couldn't inhale. She noted her ribs might be broken, and a sliver of fear threatened her composure. Gritting her teeth, she exhaled the air she'd been holding, slowly as her efforts for calm finally kicked into overdrive.

She could do this.

She could survive.

Long enough for Booth to find her.


	59. DisemBodied

"We traced her to a house in Fairfax."

The sentence kept repeating in his head. Booth drove not like a madman but like a heat seeking missile. Steady, determined. The course set firmly by forces outside of his control.

Then he was pulling into the first empty space along a curb. Gina had been living with a friend in a small house converted into two apartments. The idyllic neighborhood seemed utterly disgusted with the intrusion of a dozen or so FBI agents and local law enforcement. He jumped out of his vehicle and didn't stop moving until he reached the door.

"You can't go in there, Booth." A scrawny agent held both hands up.

"And why the hell not?" Booth glared at him.

"Because you are part of the case. I can't have you compromising evidence."

"What evidence is there to corrupt? It's just an apartment."

"We've got a body." A disembodied voice echoed from inside the modest 2 bedroom.

His legs came very close to giving out on him, and blood pounded in his ears. A split second later came a reprieve of sorts.

"It's not Dr. Brennan." The voice cut through his brain.

Booth moved to push the guy out of the way. The agent held his ground.

"Booth!" A familiar female voice made him spin on his heels.

Caroline Gillian stood about ten feet behind him.

"Cherie, I better not see you step another foot inside that apartment." She closed the distance between them. "If I do, I will throw your pretty ass in jail."

"But-"

"No buts about it. I can't have you contaminating the crime scene. You're too close to this one, cherie." She stopped. "I'm sorry about Dr. Brennan. Cam sent me over here. We have to conduct ourselves in the proper manner."

She grabbed his wrist and winked, adding in a whisper. "At least with all these people around, cherie."

She continued past him and just as she was about to enter the residence, she paused, "Booth, you have to take a step back on this one. These fine law enforcement folks will find her. Go home. Looks like you could use some beauty sleep."


	60. Straight Shot

"The deceased is Emily Jenkins, roommate, and reportedly a friend of Gina." Cam read from a computer screen.

Caroline shook her head. "Let me tell you, with friends like that." Her voice trailed off.

Cam tried to maintain her composure and continued to read the information. It was the only way they would find Temperance. She knew it. "She was strangled. Preliminary tests show she's been dead for about 2 days."

There was an overwhelming sense that time mattered and exact procedure did not. Angela glanced around the room. Temperance would not like all of this supposition. But it was her they were trying to save. They didn't have her there to balance them. To throw logic in their faces.

Booth leaned in a corner, tapping his foot and then pacing back and forth.

"Matches our time frame." His voice filled with sharp edges and pain, grating against the pure madness of desperation.

Caroline added more information. "There was no sign of Gina in the house."

A collective groan cut her off for a moment. She frowned at all of them. "There was no sign of her except for a small closet in the back of the house."

She held up an evidence baggie. Two large shell casings glittered under the harsh lighting of the lab platform. "These two beauties have her fingerprints all over them."

"That doesn't make any sense." Angela could barely take any of this. "She lived there for two months."

"She was careful. Wiped things down when she knew we were on to her." Cam took the evidence bag, her voice cracked just a little.

"Or she never left anything behind in the first place." Booth pushed his way back into the conversation. "She was trained to leave no trace."

"So why leave the brass?" Hodgins finally opened his mouth.

"To send a message." All eyes were on Booth now.

"I'll bet if you check those against the bullets found at the Diner when Dr. Brennan was shot." Hodgins didn't need to finish his sentence. They had all come to the same conclusion.

/./././././

Booth awoke with a start. He rubbed his eyes. They were dry and raw to the point of sticking together. He'd fallen asleep on the couch. Standing up, he kicked a half empty bottle across the rug. All he cared about right then was emptying his bladder.

Cam had sent him home. Hacker had gone so far as to post agents at his door to make sure he didn't leave. The Bureau would find Temperance. They'd assured him he needed to take a time out. _How could he do that?_

He stood at the toilet, suddenly unable to produce a single drop. His mind swirled with thoughts he couldn't quite stitch together. _The Diner. Something about the Diner. _He should have gone to lunch with her. He could have hung back and sat at the counter.

It was ridiculous for him to be here in his apartment doing nothing but getting started on a nasty hangover. But they had nothing to go on but a dead roommate and the notes Gina had sent. Absolutely nothing.

His phone rang and he narrowly avoided disaster while zipping up his jeans. He stumbled back to the couch and fumbled for his phone still in his jacket pocket. The number was blocked, and it hit him like a shot. _Gina._

"Where?"

"You don't mince words, do you Seeley Booth? Turns me on."

"Where Gina?"

"Cross a bridge, pay a toll. Maybe it won't be her life." There was a pause and he strained to listen for a sound in the background. Something to tell him where she might be. Where Temperance might be. "You're a gambler, Booth. You'll figure it out."

The line went dead.

Booth knew exactly where to go. It was a straight shot up I-95. First he had to elude his babysitters. He peered through the peephole and could barely make out the two agents. Knowing he couldn't get out this way without making a lot of noise, and committing a few felonies, his mind raced through other possibilities. _Could it be as simple as the fire escape?_

Once on the street, he scanned the area for more agents. Apparently he was only worth two men. He laughed. There was no one watching his vehicle.

Half drunk and tired, he hit the first drive-thru he could find and bought the biggest coffee and made it a double. Then, he drove, hands like vise grips on the steering wheel. Slipping through the busy Washington-Baltimore corridor like a thief in the night, he knowingly set off a few speed cameras, subconsciously leaving bread crumbs. There was little traffic except for big rigs this time of the night. He whizzed passed all of them, trying to cut more than a few minutes off the normally two hours of drive time this trip would take.

He could feel his weapon digging into his side, and his stab wound burned a little as he shifted in his seat. Part of him considered calling Cam, but he decided against it. The less she knew the better.

Booth wasn't expecting to find Temperance. Hell, he wasn't sure what he expected. Except to find Gina and make her tell him everything. That's why he couldn't call Cam or anybody else. He had to do this by any means necessary, and he couldn't involve any of them. They had to be left to fight if he didn't succeed tonight.

Right now, he knew exactly where to go. There weren't many places to gamble in this area and he knew them all.


	61. Block Head

Booth didn't know how he got there. That part of his brain was just gone. When he strained to remember anything past this present moment, his head felt melted and liquid and a sharper kind of pain roared. He knew that feeling. He'd felt it before. He'd been hit on the head pretty hard. Probably had a concussion - or worse.

Struggling to keep his eyes open, he focused on the first thing he could see. The silver white graininess of a cinder block. He reached out and touched it to make sure it was real. Running his fingers across it brought a reflex of tears to his eyes, the roughness nailing home his reality.

He was lying on his side on a cold hard surface. It didn't seem to be a floor, per se. Uneven rocks or bits of something dug into him in lots of random places. It smelled damp and there was little light to see by. Everything seemed fuzzy around the edges. Maybe it was just his head. Booth hurt too much to be sure of anything.

He willed himself to stay awake, to hold on just another few minutes until the pain subsided, because it surely would subside. It always had before now when he'd been bonked on the head.

_Where was he?_ _How did he get there?_

Then he remembered driving and a hot cup of coffee. The thought of coffee made him want to puke, but he couldn't do that. He had to hold it together.

His mind seemed to be working in circles, going back over and around the same things. The pain and the coffee and the drive.

Another thought picture popped into his head. A bridge and a river. He remembered the lights on the water.

Then a wave of nausea mixed with an amorphous, slithering pain overtook the thought and he scraped fingers across the cinder block wall, digging his nails into the rough cement, hard enough so he felt it all the way up his arm.

A breeze blew across him and for a few minutes he felt relief. Shivering, he rubbed his forearm, and he thought about how gruesome the term "_goose bumps"_ really was.


	62. Fool Evidence

_****Disclaimer: of course I don't own Bones! :-)**_

_**Thank you all for reading! I'd love to know what you think about how the story is going.  
**_

_**/././././**_

"That fool." Caroline shook her head.

Hacker shoved his hands into his pockets, head bent toward the floor. He knew the news he'd just delivered would not sit well with any of them. The others stood in a half circle, frozen for a moment.

"Alright, snap out of it. What do we know?" Cam took a stab at remaining calm and collected.

"The agents checked on Agent Booth around 10:00pm. He was asleep on the couch with a bottle of bourbon. Next time they looked, around 11:00 pm, he was gone. The bourbon was spilled on the floor." Hacker repeated the report he'd been given, sounding much like a recording.

"The only other way out of that apartment was the fire escape. No agents were posted there or at his vehicle. Why?" Caroline used up a huge chunk of the Assistant Director's personal space.

"He wasn't a flight risk." Hacker didn't look like he believed a word of what he'd just said.

"You didn't think you should watch his wheels? Come on, you think he'd sit still why you babysat him all night?" Hodgins moved forward causing everyone else to take a step back. "I don't know why one of us didn't stay with him."

"The man said no, plain and simple." Cam shook her head. "He wanted us to stay here and work."

"Not like we had much of anything to go on." Hodgins kicked the leg of the exam table.

Hacker nudged Cam, motioning to his cell phone, before he ducked out of the room. She nodded before turning back to Hodgins and Caroline.

Hodgins cracked his knuckles, his blue eyes a steel mask. "I don't know about all of you but I'm not holding my breath for Hacker anymore. Once we have something, I'm all over it."

Angela popped into the room a little out of breath. "The trace on Booth's phone just came back."

"And?" Caroline was more than a little impatient.

"His phone is about two hours from here in Perryville, MD. Looks like a large outlet mall or something."

"The casino." Cam and Hodgins came to this conclusion at the same time.

"You don't think he'd be gambling at a time like this?" Sweets blushed when he said this, realizing immediately he'd misspoken. The others pretty much ignored him, continuing the conversation.

Cam asked the next question. "What about the SUV?"

"Having a bit of an issue getting the information from the security company. Booth hasn't been officially declared missing." Angela clutched a file folder to her chest.

"Can't the Fibbies do something?" Hodgins crossed his arms and glared at Caroline and Sweets.

"Hey don't look at me. That's Hacker's territory." Sweets shook his head.

"He's working on it right now." Cam did her best to inject more calm into the conversation. It was all she had right then.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm on my way to the wilds of Perryville right now. If his phone is there, he might be there too." Angela held up her car keys.

"No babe, you can't go anywhere."

"I can't go anywhere?" Angela glared at her husband.

"There's a maniac on the loose kidnapping people. I think you should stay here and keep an eye on Booth's phone. You can let us know if-"

"Us?" Caroline butted into the conversation. "Conspiracy boy, what makes you think you're coming along?"

Hodgins wasn't taking no for an answer. "You need someone there with an eye for evidence."

"Hacker's boys will do just fine." The prosecutor tried to stand her ground.

"But they might miss something. I'm coming too." Cam put in her two cents.

"And leave me here by myself?" Angela was not impressed with their plan.

"Sweets will stay with you." Hodgins should have kept his mouth shut.

"Gee thanks, babe." Angela shoved the car keys at him. "I bet you'll love the couch tonight."

He grabbed her and made sure they had eye contact. "I'm sorry Ange. I really need you to stay here and keep an eye on Booth's phone. Let us know if you hear anything. To hold down the fort. Plus, I need you to be safe."

"And you think Sweets will keep me safe?" She turned toward the psychologist. "No offense, Sweets."

The young man half bowed. "None taken."

Hodgins just kept looking straight at her. "I know I'll find something. I have to go. And I'll feel much better if you stay here. Please?"

Angela nodded. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Never said you did, babe." Hodgins turned to leave the room. Then he stopped and pulled his wife into his arms. "I'll gladly take the couch as long as you still love me."


	63. Dagger Dance

"Your recommendation backfired on me." Gina circled around Booth as he struggled against his bonds. "I thought you were the kind of straight arrow I needed. My ticket to the FBI."

Booth froze and stared at her. She slapped him, but he didn't flinch. He imagined himself a solid block of granite, a memorial of sorts.

"No, you gave them cause to dig a little deeper."

She hit him again, a little harder this time. As blood trickled down his cheek, he let his anger feed off the pain and toyed with the idea of strangling Gina once he got his hands free. He only allowed himself a few seconds of this thought. He had to maintain his focus.

_Where was Temperance?_

"Big tough guy. Yea, we'll see just how tough you are."

Gina sat on the pile of sandbags, gun in her lap.

"Your doctor friend, what's his name, put a note in my file. Seems I scared the little puppy dog."

She was suddenly in his face, lips brushing his cheek as she whispered in his ear. His mind flashed to a memory of kissing her.

"I've seen you with your partner."

Her voice was a slow, exaggerated sip of whiskey with all the heat and sting. A dance with a beautiful dagger. She backed away from him and laughed. "I'm convinced you're fucking her."

Booth recoiled at those words. She made it all sound so crude and meaningless. Maybe it all was meaningless to Gina. She seemed to catch this reaction and her smile spread into a concerted, satisfied smirk, and with the raise of an eyebrow, she upped the ante just a bit.

"Did I tell you I've watched her sleep? She thought she was sleepwalking." She stopped to chuckle at her own joke. "Until you ruined it."

Booth set his jaw, melting every emotion into cold hard steel. Letting the ferocity within him escape at that moment would be a waste of energy, so he sat there on a low simmer. Calculating his next move and memorizing this moment.

"That's right, Seeley." Her face was very close to his again. "I stood over her bed and just watched her…breathing in …and out."

/././.

Booth couldn't get his wrists free; he was almost certain. The way the bindings dug into his skin, he was sure they were plastic zip-ties. A ripple of panic caused him to shiver ever so slightly. He prayed she hadn't noticed.

Closing his eyes, he prayed for Temperance to survive. He didn't know where she was, but he hoped with all his might that she would get away and live. His chest tightened and his eyes watered. Exhausted, he just couldn't help it.

Gina wiped away the tear that slipped down his face. She smiled, pleased with herself and her game.

"Oh Seeley. Are you crying?"

Her laughter again filled the room until he thought his head would explode. Then her face became very calm and she saluted him.

"Gee sir, I never thought I'd see you fall apart this easily, this quickly. All that training and bravado. A huge façade, huh?"

She pushed the chair over, his head slamming against the ground. He peered up at her, vision swimming in and out. Another wave of nausea rolled over him. Swallowing hard, he tried to clear his throat. He tasted blood. Gina disappeared and reappeared.

Gina kicked him hard in the ribs. "Wake up!"

She moved away from him, and he strained his neck to follow her but to no use as she quickly left his field of vision. Booth almost lost his dinner when Gina dragged Temperance into view.

"See, I have all the cards." She held his partner, his world, underneath the armpits like a tattered rag doll. "I've run the game from the beginning."

He bit his tongue and did not cry out. Temperance was breathing, though she did not appear to be conscious. _Open your eyes, Bones. Open your eyes._

Then, his partner floated above him and for a brief moment he let go of all the agony and the tiniest hint of relief prickled his chest. She was alive. He took a quick inventory of her. Her mouth was gagged, one eye swollen shut, her wounded shoulder bloodied. He tried to reach out to her but his arms were bound behind him.

Suddenly she was on top of him. Gina had thrown her to the floor. He heard her muffled cry as she fell against him. All sorts of emotions rushed over him. Booth was delirious for a brief moment, but somehow he managed to suck in all the air his lungs could handle and he whispered her name.

"Bones."


	64. Tensions Sweet

_**Happy Holidays to everyone. Thank you for reading. **_

/././

"I'm really not liking this arrangement Jack." Angela looked across her office and out onto what she could see of the platform.

There was static on the line and the radio blended with the constant drone of the road. Cam was driving as she claimed to be the calmest and most in charge of her emotions. Angela wondered if this was really true. Appearances could be deceiving and once you got past that tough surface, she had a feeling her boss was a royal mess inside.

Angela felt a little flutter and placed her hand on her belly. This life that stirred inside of her had no idea what was going on out here unless it could read her thoughts through the blood they both shared. She liked that idea and did her best to keep the positive thoughts flowing freely. Everything would be alright.

_But they hadn't heard from Booth now for hours. _

She was going crazy from just waiting for Cam and Hodgins to reach that place on the screen in front of her that claimed to contain Booth's phone. She hadn't heard from Caroline or Hacker about Booth's SUV, but she had a strong feeling it was there too. Just sitting there with no Booth, only his phone. A decoy.

Angela sucked in a deep breath. She couldn't let the panic rise in her throat. She had to keep it down in her stomach, hoping her churning acids would dissolve it. She needed to eat something, at least for the baby's sake.

"Where's Sweets?" Her husband's voice startled her out of her wandering thoughts.

She frowned. "He and Daisy Wick are out on the platform doing something. I keep hearing giggling."

"Now?"

"Yea, that seems to be how they are dealing with our utter uselessness."

"Yea, I get it, babe. I'm sorry you had to stay behind."

They hung up after a few moments of silence, each promising to be safe. Angela began pacing her office, straightening pictures and trying in vain to listen to music. Nothing she found was soothing, and she kept ending up out on the platform, wandering aimlessly. It occurred to her that she didn't see Sweets or Daisy, but it wasn't long before their voices echoed from somewhere nearby. She really didn't want to know what they were doing to break up the frustrating tension.

On her next pass through her office, her cell lit up with that endearingly goofy mug of Assistant Director Hacker. The conversation was a quick exchange of information. With a few keystrokes, another beacon appeared on her computer screen.

_Just as she'd suspected._ Booth's vehicle sat in the middle of the screen, same place as his phone. She pictured a vast empty parking lot in her mind. She'd been to the outlet mall near the casino once searching for an extra special birthday present for her best friend. Her heart leapt into her throat.

_Bren, where are you?_ Angela whispered with closed eyes.

Those same eyes overflowed with tears and she dabbed her face softly with a tissue. They were already tender to the touch. She wasn't sure she could take much more. These rushes of emotion were almost too much to bear. They came on so suddenly and with such force.

Taking a deep, focused breath, Angela forced herself to slow everything down, her breathing, her thoughts. She tried to remember the meditation technique she'd learned once on an island retreat in her globetrotting days. How happy and peaceful things had been. No worries. No dead bodies to identify. No gore or the stench of death and destruction. Only bliss.

Right on cue, the baby kicked in her belly bringing a smile to her face. This was where she belonged. Pieces were missing, but as a team, they would be put back together. Brennan and Booth would walk through those doors again. Just maybe not on this long, dark night.

She reached for her phone to call Hodgins with the news about the SUV. As her fingers touched the display, the phone lit up again, and she let out a bit of a squeak. Composing herself she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"Freaky."

"Who, Sweets and Daisy?"

"No and ew." Angela found herself laughing in spite of it all. "I was just about to call you."

"About Booth's SUV?"

"Yea, how'd you know?" She sunk into the couch.

"I'm staring right at it." Each of his words cut close to the bone. Angela shivered and lowered the phone away from her ear.


	65. Littered Hope

Booth struggled to remember. He lingered half in and out of sleep, trying to piece together how he got there. _Where ever there was. _Maybe, if he concentrated, something might come to him, and anything was better than the insanity of the moment.

His brain was scrambled by too many knocks on the head and wrapped by a fog he contributed to some kind of drug. Temperance would surely be able to name a few possible pharmaceuticals if she would only open her eyes again. Her head was filled with useful facts like that. Most of the time they seemed to pop out of her mouth at the most inopportune moments. He smiled at the thought of her awkwardness, not to make fun but because he loved that about her. No matter how crazy it drove him.

Hesitant memories danced into his mind as he sat there watching her. Booth welcomed the fragments, grateful he had retained a scrap of something through the shock of the past few hours. Taking a deep breath, he did his best to remember anything and everything about the night. Thankfully, a more clear picture emerged from his jumbled thoughts.

He'd driven like a madman, no radio and thankfully little traffic to consider. He knew exactly where to go, though he hadn't been there in years. The casino only had slot machines but they once were junk food to his gambling addiction.

Booth had chosen the nearby outlet center parking lot as a vantage point, a spot to collect himself. He remembered sitting there for a few long minutes watching the area. The cold had begun to creep into the SUV since he'd turned off the engine; he ignored the chill. He sat there in the protective bubble, steeling himself to take the next step. Outside was a world where Gina was waiting, lurking, watching his every move - he was sure of it.

Then, he opened the door and put his feet on the ground for the first time in hours. His legs tingled but he pushed the feeling aside. They would work if he needed them, he had to believe it. He couldn't let these shreds of doubt linger too long.

"I'm over here, Booth. I got away."

_Was he hearing things?_

Turning his head, he waited to make sure he'd really heard something. His heart rushed blood throughout his body, adrenaline overtaking rational thought for the briefest of moments. The voice so quick it pricked at the very fibers of his nerves, shocking him.

There was no one in sight, though, and his gut churned a warning. He wanted to believe it was the fast food he'd consumed with the coffee he downed on the drive, not impending danger. He knew better. Booth pressed himself against the SUV and listened.

"Over here Booth. Over here."

He wanted to shout. "Over where?"

Instead, he kept silent as his throat closed with a mix of fear and anticipation.

_Had his sanity left him?_

He waited some more and the only other sounds he heard were the ever present wind, the low hum of traffic on the nearby interstate and the beating of his own heart.

Booth stepped away from the vehicle and was immediately overtaken by a sparkling rush of pain in his back. His body tightened and then released. He was gone in a matter of seconds, waking up in this place some time later.

Now, he scratched his fingers on the cement tearing the already broken nails a little more. He figured Gina had used a stun gun of some kind. How else could she have subdued him so quickly? He could not figure out how she'd done it. Where had she been hiding?

_Was she in the vehicle with him the entire trip?_

/././././

"The door was open like that when we got here."

Hodgins heard Cam talking with an FBI tech that had just arrived in a small flotilla of black SUVs. The former _king of the lab_ tuned them all out and surveyed the scene in front of him. Shivering he zipped his coat against the cold, praying Booth and Temperance were out of the wind and somewhere safe. He paused at the thought of the word safe. _How could you be safe when held against your will?_

He had to get his mind back on task. Taking another deep breath, he scanned the area again, making every effort to open all of his senses, thinking of Angela and her exercises on the mindful examination of evidence. Be present, stay in the moment. And then he saw it.

Snagged by the wheel of Booth's SUV was a slip of pink paper with foil edges. A gum wrapper. The beam from Hodgins' flashlight had caught the small flash of color as he'd swept the light underneath the vehicle. His throat closed up just a little and he swallowed hard. _What if?_

He didn't like to go on hunches. That was more Angela's territory. And Cam or Booth. _Booth._ Hodgins had to suck in another round of crisp, clear air to shock his emotions into behaving.

This discarded wrapper could be their ticket. He pulled on a pair of gloves Cam had tucked into his coat pocket when she's warned him not to tamper with evidence before they'd exited their own vehicle. He'd made his share of mistakes in the past, but not now. There was too much at stake.

He picked up the foil paper and held it so he could get a better look. Mintberry gum. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen it sold anywhere. Maybe a funky old gas station or a vintage candy shop. It usually accompanied an odd brand of clove flavored gum. He couldn't remember the name. This scrap could be their break.

As if Cam had read his mind, she appeared with a baggie. He dropped the wrapper inside the evidence bag and continued to eyeball it.

"Let's hope Gina's a gum chewer." Cam eyed his find.

His thoughts exactly.

"Call Angela. Have her start the search."

Hodgins nodded and pulled out his phone. He decided to duck out of the wind, slipping back into Cam's vehicle.

"Hey babe. I've got something for you."

The relief in her voice was obvious. He had to throw a little water on her hopes.

"Don't get your hopes up. It's just a gum wrapper."

"That's like someone telling you it's just dirt." _Point well taken._ He smiled; thankful his wife had such a positive attitude.

"Point taken, Ange." He gave her what little bit of information he could, snapped a quick picture of their only evidence and hoped for the best. They disconnected, and he just sat there in the car out of the elements watching Cam walk the perimeter for the fourth or fifth time, tracing the pebbled, crumbling asphalt with her flashlight.

/./././

It didn't take Angela long to call him back.

"There are only two places in the area that carry that gum." Angela typed frantically and impatiently watched her computer screen update. The lightning speed of the Jeffersonian's internet still was not fast enough for her. "Unless she bought it on the internet."

Hodgins echoed her thoughts. "Then we're fucked."

"Don't say that. This is the break we needed." Angela clicked the mouse and typed some more. "I'm sending the information to your phone now."

"I'm starting to think we're at the beginning of a wild goose chase."

"Don't go there, Jack. Things are already bad enough."

"You're right. Dr. Brennan would want us to remain objective and solve the problem without emotion."

"I wouldn't go that far, honey. Just don't let the negative overwhelm the positive."


	66. Grunt Work

The FBI team had chased them from the scene. Hacker threatened to throw them off the case entirely, which he knew was an empty threat. He reminded them they didn't want to contaminate evidence. He assured them he'd do a good job. When they didn't listen, Caroline broke through their blockade. They listened to her and had made the long drive back to DC in silence. There was after all really nothing to say.

Hodgins had the one shred of evidence tucked into his coat pocket, safe in an evidence bag. He wouldn't let it out of his sight. This was the one thing they had. Cam had kept her mouth shut. There was an unspoken agreement not to share anything with Hacker or Caroline. _Not yet._

Now, hours later, Hodgins held the wrapper with tweezers. "You, my crinkled friend, are the key to finding Booth. No pressure." He placed the paper carefully under the viewer for the microscope.

"Dr. Hodgins." Cam appeared out of nowhere. She may as well have apparated.

Hodgins jumped. "You could knock, ya know?"

"Sorry. We're all a little edgy." She leaned in to get a closer look at the gum wrapper. "Any luck checking on local stores?"

"Ange is running through the list." He paused and carefully flipped the wrapper to the foil side. "It's early. Most places don't open til at least six."

She nodded and turned to leave. Her need to break down, to let out one hell of a sigh radiated off of her.

"Cam." He stopped her. "We'll find them."

She didn't respond, letting his words hang there, and reminding him of the shear uncertainty of their situation. It cut through even the best platitudes.

"Just keeping working, Hodgins." Her voice was crisp with tears on the brink.

He had to look away from her to avoid his own show of emotion. A mumbled _yea_ was all he could muster.

/././

Time passed in globs of five and ten minutes, though sometimes he was sure he could feel the seconds peeling away. He thought of a big hour glass and a wicked witch with a weird green face. Then he reminded himself that movie did have a happy ending. Dorothy made it home.

There wasn't much to tell about the wrapper beyond its limited reach in the retail world. Nothing helpful. No fingerprints. Gina hadn't left much evidence so far. Why had she left this clue? How could she be that careless at such a crucial point? Maybe she didn't realize it was there. Maybe it had been stuck to her shoe or it fell out of her coat pocket.

It didn't make sense. Nothing did. He was exhausted. Closing his eyes, he let out the biggest sigh.

"You should try to sleep."

Her voice didn't surprise him. It seemed to float.

"Yea babe." He nodded and laid his head in his folded hands.

"I have about ten minutes until the last store on my list opens."

He grunted. He could take a ten minute cat nap, no problem.


	67. Grit

Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut for what seemed like an ever melting glob of time, Booth worked at the plastic straps binding his wrists. Bending and twisting as much as he could possibly stand. His elbows, wrists, shoulders and even his ankles cried out for him to stop this madness. Every ligament and muscle, every cell of his body burned. Blood trickled down his hands. In the back of his mind, he worried a little about bleeding to death.

He would risk it. Time was running out. Banishing all other thoughts, he went back to his work. Important work. Their lives depended on it.

Gina had bound him with his hands behind his back. The sharp twist of plastic dug into his flesh as he rubbed the edge of the straps against a jagged spot where the block wall met an exhaust vent of some kind.

He'd swear later he heard something crack.

Booth opened his eyes. _He was free._ He flexed his wrists and pulled his hands apart. A white wave mixed with relief and utter disbelief roared over him, his body tingling with excitement, battling for a win over an incredible exhaustion. Things around him began to spin, and his thoughts swam through a throbbing mass of sound.

By God, he was free.

/./././

"I've got it!"

Angela appeared in the doorway, shaking. He wanted to rush to her side but his feet seemed glued to the floor.

"Jack, I really think I've got it."

All he could do was wag his head like a puppy.

"The second store I called." She was out of breath with halting excitement. "The second store. They sell the gum. Mostly to a skinny white lady. That was how he described her. I asked for more and he said he thinks her hair is blondish."

He didn't want to tell her there were probably thousands of skinny blonde white ladies in the region. Hundreds of thousands.

"Get this. The store – Ernie's Place – is located in Baltimore City. In a predominantly black neighborhood. Very few skinny white ladies. There are a lot of old warehouses and abandoned row homes. Ernie thought she might work construction or something by how plain she dresses. Said she could be a hotty underneath."

Hodgins smiled. He felt it now too. A solid lead. A skinny white lady in an inner city neighborhood.

"And here's the best part." Angela's face was lit up with so much hope he wanted to squeeze his wife. "She comes in once a week. _Same day like clockwork_, Ernie said."

He was nodding again, following her every word. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her enthusiasm had attracted attention. An audience of 3 had collected at the door slightly behind her. Cam, Sweets and Daisy.

"Today is the day."


	68. Wild Ride

_**We're heading for the homestretch... Thank you to everyone who's read my story so far. :-)**_

Booth held her in his arms. His thoughts still swirled and felt almost mushy inside of his head. The desire to close his eyes was so strong. Even at this moment of triumph. _He was free!_ He should jump up and search the room, find the way out. Save them both. It seemed he'd used every ounce of energy to break those plastic straps.

So close were they to death. He knew it. And if he didn't get his butt moving, they would most definitely die.

Yet he was beyond feeling. He was outside the pain, above it, beyond it. _Done with it._ He didn't care if he never felt anything again. He didn't care if he died as long as Temperance survived. He wondered if she'd keep her promise and talk to his grave. This made him smile. It felt good for a second. Then he remembered she was dying too. She might even die before him. Her ragged breathing had slowed to almost nothing.

_Baby, open your eyes._

The words slipped from his lips so many times that he memorized every movement of his lips, mouth and tongue. He whispered the mantra and sometimes he mouthed the words without a sound. A prayer.

Booth was scared.

The acknowledgement troubled him. This unfamiliar feeling. He didn't get scared. He was a grown man, a soldier. Panic ran over him in lazy long ripples.

Booth shook off the fear. He would not surrender. At least now he felt something other than pain, and that was a good thing. It meant he had a chance. And if he had a chance, Temperance also had a chance. Gina wouldn't take her away from him. No, she wouldn't ruin his chance at happiness. He imagined his hands around her neck, squeezing the life out of her.

There it was. The spark he needed. Anger. He let it build a fire in his chest. Booth refused to let Gina beat him. He was stronger, smarter. She'd made a mistake messing with him.

This had sure been a wild ride. And he was holding on for dear life. For both of them.

"Bones." He whispered close to her ear. "Don't give up."

A long couple of minutes passed. He'd closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe in slow, measured counts. Both to conserve energy and to stem the threatening flood of rage. Right now, control was paramount. He didn't have the energy to fling himself about the room in a careless attempt at escape. No, he had to think about this for a moment. _Just a moment._

"I won't leave Booth." Her voice startled him. The words were faint and scratchy, like leaves skittering across the sidewalk.

/./././

They found Ernie's Place easy enough, thanks to GPS and a friendly street vendor. Though vendor might not be the best term for him. He was clearly a homeless man selling bottles of water to motorists at the mercy of the long string of red lights on the seemingly endless one way streets of downtown Baltimore.

Angela fidgeted in the seat, leaning over her husband and smiling at the man walking the tightrope of the dotted white pavement markings as vehicles lined up for the latest stop. He immediately took notice and flashed them a winning smile full of yellowed teeth with one prominent gold inlay.

"Good morning! Welcome to Baltimore!"

She gestured toward the man with a ten dollar bill.

"Whoa Nelly, I don't do change, Ma'am."

"I'm looking for Ernie's Place."

The man's face lit up even more if that was possible.

"Don't I know it. Ernie gives me this water."

Traffic ahead began to crawl ever so slightly.

"Better hurry up there babe." Hodgins motioned toward the distant green light.

"How about I show you?" The vendor seemed to understand the urgency. "Promise I won't bite."

Throwing caution to the wind, Hodgins answered for Angela. "Sure, hop in, man."

The street vendor slid into the back seat. Squeezed was a much better word though. The car was not really meant to have a back seat. He tossed his backpack bursting with sloshing plastic bottles on the seat ahead of him.

"Name's Jack." He leaned toward the front seats. "Ya know like the Flash?"

"Jumpin Jack Flash." Angela smiled. "I like it. I'm Angela."

"Oh you are an angel, my friend. I was getting sunburnt out there."

Hodgins flinched a little considering the sun wasn't even peeking out of the clouds. He wondered exactly who this person was that they'd allowed into their world.

"My silent hubby's name is also Jack."

"See it was fate you folks stopped. Two Jacks is better than one, I say every day."

Not sure where this conversation was leading, Hodgins decided he better steer it quickly.

"Ernie's Place?" There was just a little edge of annoyance in his voice. Jack seemed to pick it up right away.

"Oh yea. Keep going straight for two lights. Watch that bus. She'll pull right out in front of ya."

Sure enough, the large rectangle beast lumbered right into their lane cutting them off and causing them to miss the next light. Hodgins mumbled curses under his breath and gripped the steering wheel until it felt like his fingernails would pop off.

"Told ya, man. She's brutal. Almost ran me over twice. And I swear I could hear her laughing."

While pondering the trials and tribulations of the lowly street vendor might have been interesting on any other day, today was not that day. He seemed to sense their need to know about Ernie. He didn't mind. Most people rolled up their windows and locked their doors when they saw him.

"What business you got with Ernie? Not many white folks come down that way." Jack rummaged through his bag, seeming to organize his gear.

Hodgins kept one eye on the Hummer in front of him and the other glued on the rear view mirror. Apprehension squeezed his stomach with its viselike grip. A stolen glance at Angela completely boggled his mind. She was smiling, absolutely glowing.

Jack continued babbling on filling the awkward space between them. "Ernie sells just what ya need. Water, smokes, snacks. And maybe a little somethin extra, if you know what I mean. You all got some kind of deal with him?"

"No deal, Jack." Angela moved so she could face their guest. "Just a few questions."

Jack nodded, pursing his lips and squinting, looking as if he was thinking hard about what she just said. Then he grinned. "Who you? LA PD?"

He laughed. This was obviously a joke of some sort. Angela laughed too. The whole situation was outrageous. _How often did you pick up the guy selling anything in the middle of the street?_

"We're looking for someone." Hodgins added his two cents.

The crazy part was nobody knew they'd even left the Lab. Cam had immediately called Hacker once Angela came up with the lead. Sweets and Daisy had disappeared entirely. It was like they'd vanished into thin air. Angela couldn't wait to get the green light from Cam. She couldn't wait for the FBI to get their shit together. They both knew nobody would let them anywhere near Ernie's Place. There'd be surveillance and too much talking about what to do next.

Time was not on their side. Angela could feel it. She could smell it. She saw it in the clouds above them. No, they couldn't wait. They would make the call once they found Ernie and his store.

Flying by the seat of his pants was not her husband's idea of fun, but he'd agreed with no hesitation. His only consolation was the gun in the glove box. He knew how to use it thanks to Booth. Angela wouldn't even touch it. She ignored it. Though she knew they might need it, and a small part of her even felt a little naked without one of her own which was totally against anything she'd ever believed in her life.

Jack, the street vendor turned navigator, interrupted her thoughts.

"Turn right."

This directive came just about too late. The intersection jumped out in front of Hodgins and he swerved to avoid a man pushing a bike with a little cart.

"Jeez, a little more warning next time, man."

Tires screeched and people on the street hollered and threw crude gestures their way.

"Don't worry 'bout them. They get almost runned over twice a day. We're used to crazy white people down here."

Jack laughed to himself at this last remark. Crazy white people was exactly the right term for the pair at the moment.

"Go down two streets and hang a left."

The air was suddenly thick with the smell of the water. They were very much near the harbor now, though the tourist attractions were several blocks to their right. This area was more gray and rundown, and there were suddenly no people on the streets. It didn't seem like anything lived there, except concrete and metal.

When Hodgins made the left turn, the area suddenly changed again. Now there were lines of row homes, some boarded up while others were bursting with flower boxes overflowing with crimson and orange. The last remnants of autumn. A smashed pumpkin was strewn up part of a block, its white guts spread over the crumbling sidewalk.

"Ernie's Place is right up there." Jack pointed ahead of them. "It's the only place left 'round here."


	69. Confirmation

_****Just a little tease for tonight... **_

"Bones." Booth jostled her a bit. He wasn't even certain Temperance had just spoken. Her body was still, breathing barely visible.

Her eyes fluttered open. She seemed to register something was different immediately. But there was confusion there, a sense of panic. When she pulled away, he held on and squeezed her ever so much before letting her go.

"It's okay Bones. It's gonna be okay."

She exhaled heavily and her eyes darted around him and then to his wrists.

"You're free." The short sentence dragged itself through the gravel of a dry throat.

He nodded, grinning that sort of relieved smile reserved for desperate situations. You never wanted to use it.

"I'm free." He echoed her comment, though hoping to add a bit more optimism.

Booth swallowed the rush of tears and grabbed hold of her again. He wanted to hug her tight against him but did his best to be careful of her injuries. She was so warm to the touch. Feverish. Fighting against the reality of their situation, and unwilling to give space to anything negative, he released her gently.

"I better find us a way out of here."

/./././

"Come to think of it, I might know who you're lookin for." Jack leaned forward.

Hodgins caught a rather stiff whiff of aftershave and halitosis with regular old BO. He was fairly certain Jack's shirt could stand on its own.

"How could you?" The car practically bounced off the curb.

"I got special powers, man. Why do you think I'm Jumpin Jack Flash?"

The pair let this one go.

"See, me and Ernie's good friends. He told me some girl was callin and askin about gum. He thought that was weird. Who cares if someone buys gum. 'Cept this ain't no normal customer. Pardon me one second." He cracked open one of his waters and took a drink. Wiping his lips, he continued. "See, this chick, she comes in once a week for this old fashioned gum. No one likes it 'cept Ernie's Mamma, and she passed two years ago. Ernie's cheap and didn't want to throw out good gum so he kept it."

Hodgins couldn't take it. He was in no mood for stories. "Get to the point, Jack."

"Sure, sure, anything for a fellow Jack." He took another swig of his water. "This chick is cold. She's got a body underneath them plain clothes she wears, but she's cold. Stares right through ya. I swear she growled at me the other day when I held the door open for her."

Angela reached into her purse. She'd grabbed a picture of Gina from her desk on the way out the door.

"Is this her?"

Hodgins and Angela both held their breath while their passenger studied the picture for what seemed like the longest two or three breaths of their lives. The temperature inside the car was suddenly stifling, the air barely breathable. Everything around them grew quiet and seemed to be listening, waiting for his answer.

Jack shivered. "Yea, that's the bitch."


	70. Sharpened Hope

Sun streamed down through a bank of barred windows toward the ceiling. The light almost twinkled in the dust stirred up by his movements. The walls were concrete block and gave him no footholds to climb up for a better vantage point.

Booth tightened the improvised undershirt bandages around his wrists, noting he was still bleeding. It didn't matter. Right now, he had to find a way out of there. He kicked the plastic ties that had once restrained him. They crunched under his feet.

He stretched and immediately doubled over. His hand instinctively went to his side. The wound there was still rather fresh and made worse by the abuse from Gina. Steadying himself with one hand on the ground, he gathered his wits. The floor was concrete and crumbling in spots. There were a few large rocks and bricks in one corner, but nothing else.

There was one door. He rested his ear on the cool metal and listened. A low hum came from somewhere, but there were no voices. No sounds of machinery. No signs of life. He resisted calling for help. Gina could be out there waiting. Maybe it was all a trick.

His eyes fell on the door knob. There seemed only to be a rudimentary lock system. No deadbolt. This was odd. Such a menacing room and this was the only security? Was there another lock on the outside? A latch of some kind? He turned the handle. No luck. Booth felt like an idiot for even entertaining the idea.

Taking a deep breath, he continued his inspection of their only possible exit. There were cracks in the cement around the frame, and it flaked away in spots as he picked at it with his fingernails. This was surely an old building. The room was sealed well, though. There were no gaps around the door itself. Then he realized something. The hinges were on the outside. This meant the door swung outward – and he could possibly kick its ass. His heart leapt in his chest.

_Hope._ Booth didn't trust it. He couldn't let any amount of elation take over. Hope could kill you. It could blind you. He shook his head.

So he reformed his thoughts, brought himself back down to earth. He could spend hours ramming this door, ending up with a jammed shoulder or worse. He knew that. He might even find something to pick the lock only to be met with a metal bolt on the other side. _Hell_, Gina could be waiting outside with a bullet for each of them.

There he was again, sliding into negative territory. All of it could be true, but those thoughts weren't helpful to him now. So he sharpened his hope and used it to burst those bubbles of doubt. Until proven otherwise, Booth was getting out of this room. And taking Temperance with him.

Then, she interrupted his plan.

"I might very well die, Booth."

He could see defeat spelled out in the dimness of her eyes. Resignation to what she perceived as the inevitable, rational end. He knew she wouldn't view it as being negative. No, she would mask her fears in practicality. Her pain snagged her every breath.

He hadn't given up, so she couldn't give in either.

"Stop it. Just stop. It's not the time to be rational."

"I've lost a lot of blood. I have numerous injuries. I may be hemorrhaging…bleeding …internally."

"Please."

She struggled to catch her breath.

"My breathing is labored and I feel –"

He knelt down beside her and took her hand in his.

"You are in shock. Please be still."

"Aren't you supposed to keep me talking?"

"Bones." He caressed her face.

"To keep me from slipping into cardiac … arrest."

"I will get us out of here."

She didn't argue. He had to get back to the business of escape. Standing too quickly, his head spun like a windup toy, and he almost vomited. He closed his eyes and took a deep slow breath to kill the sick feeling. Coming back to his senses, he realized her eyes were closed and all thought went quickly back to Temperance.

"Bones." He nudged her. When she didn't respond, he repeated the motion with a little more force.

"Booth?" She opened one eye. "You told me to stop talking."

"Don't close your eyes, Bones. Don't go to sleep."

"I'm not sleepy." He didn't believe her. Her voice was soft and distant.

Shaking her, both of her eyes popped open, and he wasn't happy with what he saw there. Terror raced across her face. She grimaced and tried to turn on her side, coughing a little. He wasn't surprised to see blood on her lips.

"Booth…oh no."

The fear in her eyes sent chills down his spine. She swiped her lips, fingertips tinged with blood. He wanted to run for help, but there was no use.

Then he remembered the bricks in the far corner of the room.


	71. Brick By Brick

_****This section took a little more thought...and some visual aids. I even took apart a door knob. Fan fiction is such fun to write! Even if I didn't get things quite right. :-)**_

"You did what?" Cam's voice crackled.

Hodgins recounted their morning – the Cliff's notes version.

"You're lucky your wife left us some breadcrumbs." He could hear voices in the background as she paused to take a breath. "We're passing Camden Yards now. Where are you?"

He craned his neck for a street sign and read what he saw there. The cavalry was coming, help was on the way. And they were going to need it. He could feel it in his empty stomach.

"Okay, I know it. Stay put. We'll be there soon."

He knew in this city, soon could mean anything. All the red lights and traffic, not to mention the one way streets. He didn't answer his boss. He held the phone to his ear and listened to her breathing.

"Promise me, Hodgins. You'll stay put."

Hodgins didn't promise anything. If they spotted Gina, they would pursue her. No question. No rules would stop them. Even if he wanted to wait, he knew his wife would do no such thing. She wouldn't even come close to listening to Cam. Hopefully Jumpin Jack would hold up his end and help them out.

"Cam's on her way."

"I gathered that, sweetie. What should we do?"

"Hold up." Jack's voice stopped them both in their tracks. "Crazy white bitch in the flesh."

And there she was. Like something out of a movie. Blonde hair pulled back. Sun bursting out of the clouds to light her face. She looked like some warrior princess. But not in a good way.

"Gina." Angela exhaled like she'd been holding her breath for weeks. "I can't believe it."

Jack Flash moved to open his car door.

"Wait don't spook her." How Hodgins remained so steady was a mystery. He felt like cold blue steel, strong and unyielding. "Stay in the car."

"Let me call Cam back." Angela on the other hand had grown more than a little frantic. "We have to do something."

The couple argued for about a minute, tossing out suggestions and going nowhere fast.

"She won't know me. I kin keep my eyes on her." Jack was right there, in the moment, with them, the newest member of their team. "I kin tell Ernie I need some more waters. Nobody pays me any nevermind."

Angela nodded and Hodgins worked his phone. The cavalry had to be notified or they might scare away their prime suspect. Their only suspect.

Jumpin Jack was already gathering his stuff; his hand was on the door. "She'll never suspect me. I'll stall her til help arrives."

"Be careful." Angela reached back and grabbed his shoulder. "She's all we got."

She had complete trust in this stranger, like he'd always been there. It was that easy.

"Sure, sure. I seen'em do it on TV."

That worried Hodgins just a bit but Angela was still all in and he was following her lead for sure. Considering he had no plan himself, this was as good as it got.

/./././

_The bricks._

Booth rooted through the small pile of rocks and bricks until he found something suitable. If he could knock the knob off on this side, he might be able to punch through and open the door. As long as there wasn't something unseen barring his escape.

His head spinning and spinning, he ran to the door undaunted by his suddenly blurred vision. Taking a deep breath to clear some cobwebs, he gave the knob a good wallop. Nothing happened except for a slight scratch on the metal. He did it again. Same result. This made him angry. _It had to work._ Temperance needed a doctor.

He thought of Gina again. He had trusted her. Hell, he'd even fallen in love a little with her. In the heat of the moment, he'd confided in her. _Only to be betrayed_. Anger boiled deep in his gut.

Another hard whack and the brick broke in half, bits of it crumbling in his hands. Roaring, he fell to his knees, exhaling the pain so his eyes wouldn't well up with tears. Trembling, he squeezed the brick in his hand. _This had to work._ Booth pushed through the threatening madness and got to his feet again.

There were more bricks where that one came from and rocks too. He would find what he needed. His plan _would_ work.

He shuffled to the pile again, unable to run. He realized he was dragging. His side ached and his shirt clung to him. Gulping air, he surveyed the rubble.

The rocks weren't big enough. They were barely the size of his hand. Too many of the bricks were broken or cracked. His searching grew more feverish.

Then he found it. A good specimen. This one seemed more solid. No holes in it like the first one.

Booth peered up at the windows and the scant light they threw down on him and Temperance. He stole a quick look her direction. She was watching him; her face gave nothing away except a calm indifference. He half expected her to offer advice and boss him around, but she said nothing. He bowed his head and offered a quick prayer, crossing himself.

_This had to work. _

No, it would work.

He returned to the door and continued his efforts. This brick was sturdy and barely chipped as he smashed it against the door knob. Again and again, he swung his arm, grunting and groaning with each attempt.

The metal began to give way. Another good thwack and the knob popped off and hit the floor, leaving the outer ring in place. The center shaft was now exposed, taunting him. He tried to push the thin cylinder, but it wouldn't budge. Its screws still held in place. He tossed a look over his shoulder. Now, Temperance was sitting up watching him with great interest. Chained to the wall, she knew she was of no help and her eyes gave her apology. Tears glistened there like precious jewels.

"It's okay, Bones. I've got this."

"Don't hur-"

He cut her off with one solid look and a slow shake of his head.

"I've got this, alright?"

"Did you try the credit card trick you taught me?"

The bottom dropped out of his heart. Why hadn't he thought of that first? Something so simple. No, he'd gone for brute force. He checked his pockets. Nothing.

"Check your pockets."

With evident effort, Temperance moved to do as he asked but she needed some help. Booth found nothing on her either. That idea fizzled, but it didn't matter.

"It was worth a shot."

He was relieved to see her fighting again. "Yea, Bones. Welcome back."

She leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. If she slid too far, her arm hung at an uncomfortable angle. "I believe you might call my surge in energy a second wind. When in reality, it is only a temporary reprieve. My body has gotten over the shock and is adapting-"

His _trying to be patient_ glare stopped her from explaining how she might eventually succumb to her wounds even though right then, she wasn't feeling as much pain. He knew all about how the body could mask the severity of an injury. It was part of the general protection plan. He'd seen too many soldiers get up after a fire fight believing they really were fine only to drop dead hours later.

"Please just be still and keep your eyes open."

"I wouldn't miss this for a minute, Booth."

He believed her, yet he didn't trust the moment. Death was simply biding its time, toying with them.

Booth returned his attention to the door. Now he was angry. They weren't going to die in this place. He grabbed the brick and renewed his assault. The ring soon loosened, and with a few more strikes, he knocked the bronze piece of metal off the door, breaking the anchor for the screws on the other side. This left all three shafts exposed and vulnerable.

He slid to the floor, taking a brief moment to recover and gather his thoughts. He was so close. Taking stock of the moment, he considered his next move.

His brick was too large to fit inside the hole to reach the exposed shafts. He'd have to improvise. One of the smaller rocks would fit nicely inside the door. Returning again to the pile, he found what he needed. Positioning the rock as best he could, Booth gave it one hard smash, using the brick as a hammer.

The rest of the door knob shot through the hole and clattered to the floor on the other side. And somehow, his smashed fingers didn't bother him one bit.

On his knees, he inspected the door again. Fresh air seeped through the hole, teasing him. The latching mechanism was the last hurdle.

He was able to release the latch ever so slightly but it wouldn't stay open. And it hurt like hell. Tearing a strip from his shirt, he wrapped it around his bloody finger. This time he was able to push on the latch, and at the same time he put his full weight against the door. At first it didn't seem to budge. He gave it a better shove, closing his eyes and saying yet another prayer.

And then Booth fell forward, the door swinging open.


	72. Leave, Don't Leave

Spook her they did. It was if she could smell them. Jack hadn't been in the store more than two minutes before Gina came out and in a hurry. She looked all around, and they ducked just before her eyes fell on their car. Angela peered up over the dash ever so carefully. She had to swallow hard to keep her insides from popping out of her throat. One more good scare and she might just puke all over the car. Being pregnant and scared half to death did not go well together.

Gina had already turned away. She wasn't heading in their direction with a gun in her hand or anything like that, much to their relief. Instead, she walked briskly down the side street and out of view. Hodgins reached over his wife and in one fluid motion popped the glove box and grabbed the gun.

"I hope it's loaded." She whispered.

"You know it." He didn't have to double check. He'd brought the weapon on purpose. He'd been so freaked out by Temperance getting shot in the street in broad daylight that he'd been armed ever since. Not that he'd tell his wife. No, Angela wouldn't have stood for that. Maybe not until now.

She kissed what ever part of him she could grab as he slipped out of the car and ran across the street not bothering to check for traffic. Didn't matter though. There wasn't another soul in sight. They seemed to be in some alternate universe where this absurd game was going on between their team and Gina. All Angela wanted right now was for everyone to be back at the lab and safe. She didn't want to play anymore.

As Hodgins neared the far corner, he slowed his pace a bit. His heart was thumping out of his chest. He wasn't sure he could even breathe. Blood pounded in his ears, giving him that strange cushioned feeling like he'd been at a really loud concert. How Booth did this on a regular basis was beyond him.

He couldn't let himself long for the safety of the lab for too long. There was a psycho to catch, friends to save. He scanned the street for Gina. _Where had she gone?_ Concentration seemed out of his grasp all of a sudden. His vision blurred into one long brown and gray mess. All the buildings looked the same. An odd version of a funhouse mirror. Things were out of proportion and fuzzy around the edges.

_Adrenaline._ He knew it had to be too much adrenaline. Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to slow down. He could do this.

Then, Jack jumped out of the store. Hodgins just about had a heart attack.

"I know where she's heading. It's not far from here."

/././././

"I'm chained, Booth. I can't escape." Temperance gave the heavy linked metal a tug to emphasize the point.

"I can't leave you, Bones." He had to stop to catch his breath. Even the slightest movement hurt. "If Gina comes back and finds me gone, she'll take it out on you."

Temperance considered this for a few seconds.

"No, you have to go. I'll pretend." She pushed herself up to a sitting position. "I'll pretend I'm unconscious. That way, she'll think I couldn't know you've escaped."

"She knows I wouldn't leave you, Bones."

"Well, then there's our advantage. It should give you just enough time."

Her perverse logic just might work, though it made his head hurt and his heart ache. He had to suck it up and do what he couldn't avoid. Leaving her was the only option.

"It might work. But not for long. She'll take it out on you." He couldn't stand the thought of Gina even touching Temperance or looking in her general direction for that matter.

"We have to risk it. You have to go." She paused and coughed, blood still at the corner of her mouth. "You have to, Booth. Or, or we're both dead."

Her voice trailed off. Pain had become a shadow clinging to her, stealing all her energy. Her very life ebbed away in front of him. He knew his injuries weren't severe. He'd been beaten and tortured more than once.

Booth could barely look at her, yet he didn't want to look away either. Temperance would die without help soon. He knew it.

_He had to leave her._

Kneeling down, he made sure he had her complete attention. Their eyes were steady, engaged. Then, he kissed her. As he pulled away, she squeezed his hand hard. He hated to let go.

"I love you, Temperance."

He backed away, releasing her hand only when the distance between them was too great. Lingering too long would seal their doom. Booth grabbed the brick and ran for the unknown.


	73. Scattered Mind

_****Here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. :-)**_

Her heart raced. _They'd found her._

Gina ducked into an abandoned row home, out of sight. She'd spotted the little car right away. _Why hadn't she seen it on the way in?_ No one in this neighborhood would be caught dead in something like that, even if they could afford it. _Clown car_ came to mind.

She pressed against the wall making sure she was completely out of sight. The exposed wallboard crunched a little at her touch, sending flakes to the floor in a dirty flurry of dust. Shifting a little after she felt something sharp dig into her back, she calmed herself, focusing on her breath. She had to be careful in this place. Injury could not be risked. Right now she felt like a freight train.

_Shake it off, get a grip._

She turned her mind to surveying the immediate surroundings. This place was falling down around her. Each storm brought new damage. Big fluffy pillows of pink fiberglass lay here and there, some of it almost gray with age and dirt. She'd been here more than a few times as she'd scoped out the old warehouse where her captives lingered now.

This neighborhood seemed a perfect place to hide, a new kind of ghost town, but tourists didn't flock here. This area was just another part of the decaying downtown skyline around the harbor, an embarrassment yet ignored all the same. That's what she wanted – to be ignored. Invisible.

No one claimed this old house. A few of the better spots on this street were known to be hubs of black market commerce. Not so in this hollowed out home. There might be a few squatters upstairs taking their chances with the rotting floorboards and a pipe or two of poison. She didn't care. Not about them anyway. There was only one person she cared about right then.

_The water bottle guy._

He'd made eye contact. No one in that store had ever made eye contact with her except for Ernie himself. All the others kept their eyes to the floor. She didn't belong there and they knew it. It'd be less trouble for them if they didn't know her face.

This time though, the man she knew to be Jumpin Jack Flash had looked her straight in the eyes. And he smiled at her. It wasn't a friendly _hey how ya doin_ smile, no. It was like he knew a secret.

He knew who she was.

_And_ he knew what she was doing.

Well, she knew where he sold his water bottles. She'd get him when he was least expecting it. Pedestrians were struck all the time. She might have to take out a few bystanders as well. Collateral damage. She was taught to expect her actions might have unintended consequences. Innocent people often got in the way. That's why war is hell.

She smiled. She'd get him alright. She'd cook his goose to a crisp. All it would take was a little recon and time. Both of those things Gina could handle.


	74. Endless Walk

Booth had to admit he felt rather silly carrying only a brick. Yet, he wasn't sure he even had the energy to throw it with much force, let alone wield it as a weapon. He laughed with a mixture of humor and a keen sense of acceptance. Laughter was the best medicine, even in the worst of times.

Allowing the feeling to flood his senses, he knew he couldn't get lost in it. Back to business, he kept moving. He was free and they had a chance.

And he let anger sharpen his resolve a little more. He needed something to whet those daggers in his mind. It gave his brain something to chew on besides the pain and enclosing grogginess.

_How dare Gina do this to him? How dare she hurt Temperance? _

The corridor he navigated was not well lit. Several other storage spaces led off of it. Most of the doors were padlocked dead ends. One or two hung open and they were empty. Long strings of cobwebs climbed the block walls, and trash was everywhere. Crushed beer cans. Candy bar wrappers. More piles of bricks and metal parts cast off from previous occupants. He almost stepped on an old syringe.

One of the open rooms made him pause. A single chair sat in the middle of the floor. He knew this place. _Gina. _Booth had to stuff every last ounce of rage into a spot it couldn't escape without permission. Slamming the door on that memory, he continued his long walk to what he hoped would be freedom.

Finally the hall opened into a huge room with a ceiling some thirty or more feet above him. He hesitated before moving ahead, ever listening and carefully studying his surroundings. This place seemed like a giant vault of forgotten memories, it felt like a tomb.

He stumbled and tripped and had to stop a few more times. His lungs struggling, he dragged his feet. The building seemed endless. He wasn't sure where he was, but he knew he was alone now. Booth could feel it in his bones.

_Bones._ He called out to her in his mind, willing her to hang on just a little longer.

Glancing over his shoulder, he peered into the dim entry way. Temperance was back there, chained to the wall. _Waiting for him. Helpless_. Hesitant to leave he hunkered down half leaning against an old piece of machinery, forcing himself not to give in and cry. His body ached but he could deal with that. The mental torture was what threatened to send him backwards.

_Get a grip_.

He kept repeating the phrase. It helped a little, but he wasn't sure what his mind could hang on to anymore. All that mattered right then was getting out of the building and finding help. The vast room echoed with the calls of seabirds. He had to be near water. Civilization couldn't be too far away.

_****If all goes well, I should have another chapter up tonight...so stay tuned for the next installment - A Pair of Jacks.**_


	75. Pair of Jacks

_****As promised...another chapter for you, dear readers. Enjoy.**_

"Stay close to me Jack Man." Jack Flash motioned to Hodgins. "Just 'cause you got that fro doesn't mean you ain't gonna stick out."

Hodgins nodded and smiled a little though his heart thumped roughly against his chest. He felt like he could fly, but at the same time, he really just might puke. Out here in the street, anything could happen. Now he knew why Booth was cautious about the Squints being out of the Lab.

"There's only so many places to hide." Jack kept his cool, his voice steady and in control. Hodgins stayed right behind him, following his every move. They kept a good pace despite ducking into crumbling doorways and dodging the few straggly thorn bushes interspersed around what might have once been well kept yards.

They paused both to catch their breath and to listen. Jack grabbed Hodgins by the sleeve and made the sign to be quiet with his other hand. And they hid in the shadow of a broken down porch for what seemed like forever to the scientist. He began to wonder what the hell he was doing on this street in the middle of this neglected neighborhood. Nothing seemed to be alive, even the bits of grass were brown and shabby.

The breeze was heavy with that rotten smell of the sea when it got stuck in small places all filled with rotting fish and trash. Thick with salt and death. The breeze would have been welcome if not for the stench. The weather had suddenly turned warmer like a late season storm was about to brew up. He was just waiting for a creepy fog to envelop them.

Hodgins forced himself to listen, to pay attention. He was thankful he had Jack there beside him. Gina had vanished on them. Far away construction equipment and traffic were the only sounds, except for an errant call of a seagull. He hesitated to believe they were really alone there on that ghostly street. She had to be nearby. And she could be watching now, training her sites on them. He was no fool. He knew she was a trained marksman, a sniper like Booth. She had to be good to be a woman among those men in combat.

_What the hell had he been thinking running off alone?_ Except he knew he would do just about anything to save his friends.

Jack tugged on his coat again. "She's in that house over there."

The look on his face must have signaled confusion. Jack Flash added a bit more detail. "I saw movement, a shadow where there shouldn't be one."

Hodgins nodded.

"She's probably lookin at us right now." Jack wiped sweat away from his eyes.

_Great_. Hodgins sucked his lips together to avoid making a sound.

"You stay here, big man. I'll take care of this bitch."

Something seemed all wrong in that statement. Hodgins couldn't let this stranger do his dirty business. He had to help. He'd been King of the Lab. _Once upon a time._

Jack continued giving orders. "I need you to keep watch. There's only one way in and out of that house far as I know."

Hodgins had the distinct feeling Jack knew what he was talking about too. He had total trust.

"Unless some screw up tore open the back. But I don't think so."

Hodgins nodded again. Right now, he'd believe anything. It was all they had.

"Be ready. Don't let her get away from me." Jumpin Jack Flash jogged across the street and disappeared, gobbled up by the old row home.


	76. She Knew

Temperance tugged on the chain. She studied the thick loop of metal connecting her to this building like a sordid sort of umbilical cord. _All it fed her was misery._ She traced the rough edges with her fingers, digging her nails into the wall. Bits of concrete flaked away but there was no use attempting to loosen her bonds. It would be a waste of her energy.

Her previous calm had given way to a river of feelings. First, panic at watching Booth leave her. The breath-stealing worry she'd never see him again. Then acceptance because she knew he had to go. Booth would find help. That small bit of comfort was followed by anger and then sadness. And then the sadness just as surely melted back into acceptance. She couldn't stop the flood. She had to stifle the burning urge to cry out in protest. The situation was maddening.

There was no rationalizing the emotions setting her brain ablaze. The brush fire of panic, anger, acceptance, fear, and a dozen other feelings ran rampant through her body. The rush was at times both exhilarating and dizzying. And it was more than the natural survival instinct. More than just the desire of every cell in her body to LIVE.

Temperance held strong to the belief that Booth would save her. She cemented it into place with a certainty she couldn't explain with facts and figures. She knew he would be back for her. Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against her right then, the cold steel wrapped around her wrists, the possibly devastating injuries threatening to take her life before help arrived. Temperance knew.

Could she quantify this feeling? Could she name it? Was there any explanation?

Yes.

Years of working with Booth, of depending on him. Of knowing him for the man he was. Brave, honorable, fierce and loyal. And he loved her.

_That changed everything._

She swallowed her tears, ate them up and let them nourish her. She would not waste them on this petty little thing called terror. No, she would wait and she would be ready. She accepted the pain, taking deep breaths when it became intense, when the inevitable wave came. She steeled herself against it. Too much dwelling on the physical would sink her. She trusted her body to carry her through whatever came next. Adrenaline could do amazing things, so she had no doubt she could walk or even run out of this place if she had no choice. She would escape. She would stand on her own two feet just long enough. Until help found her. Or she found it.

And they were all out there. Her friends and colleagues. She knew they were searching for her. Because she knew she'd do everything in her power to find them if things were reversed. This gave her strength and dulled the pain for a little while. This notion that she was being carried by others. She reached out with her mind for the briefest of moments to Angela, her best friend. She knew she was there, somewhere, doing her best to find her.

And there were others things Temperance knew.

She would be ready. Gritting her teeth and flaring her nostrils a little she made herself feel fierce. And she repeated under her breath, "I will get out of here. I will survive." Until the sounds melted into one another and the only recognizable word was survive.

If Gina came back, she would give the performance of her life. She would pretend she was unconscious or even dead. She would endure whatever torture Gina saw fit to throw at her. All she needed was time. Enough time for Booth to get help and return for her. That much she could give him right now. Time was of the essence. Time would tell. Time was all she had. So she listened and watched.

And she knew with all her metaphorical heart that Booth would most definitely return to save her.

Temperance just knew.

/././

The air inside the car was thick and warm, ever expanding into its own universe. Angela kept watch, switching between the three mirrors and the windows and staying out of sight. She felt very primal but not afraid. She found she really almost felt nothing at all. Waiting was a very one dimensional thing. There was nothing else while you were inside it. Just the one moment of instinct where you knew you had to act. And she knew she would jump out of this car and run into the street if Hodgins or any of her friends needed her. She would run into hell for them.

Then, there was a swirl of movement in her belly. Angela's breath caught in her throat. _The baby, oh my God._ She had forgotten if only for a few minutes that she was pregnant. And then the other thought. _What if my best friend-_ This second idea cut off before its inevitable conclusion. No matter how optimistic she wanted to feel, something nagged her. She might never see her best friend again. The possibility of death and loss pulled on her spirit. She worked with it every day practically and knew firsthand that bad things did indeed happen to good people.

There was another flutter.

And she knew.

Angela knew she would see Temperance again. She would see her today. Her best friend would be there to meet her baby. She could even baby-sit. Angela smiled. Yes, Temperance and Booth would be found. They would be okay.

Because they had to be.


	77. Walking Dead

Hodgins brushed the beads of sweat from his forehead and then ruffled his curls in a half hearted attempt to dislodge a few ideas. He felt exposed and useless. _What could he do?_ His talents were examining evidence and creating experiments, not charging into danger. And fear had taken root in him. Worried his teeth would chatter if he opened his mouth, he pursed his lips shut and did his best to keep out of sight.

Minutes passed like he was wading in molasses. And he hated molasses, even the smell of it. His heart pounded so hard, he could feel it bouncing off his rib cage. Panic and exhilaration mixed and mingled in a bizarre slow-motion dance. His fingers tingled as they steadied him, the splintered boards of the porch floor felt cool to his touch. He wanted so badly to switch positions, his ankles complained with an achy insistence.

Jumpin Jack's words echoed in his head. _She's probably lookin at us right now._

Hodgins peered through the rungs of the railing. The forgotten house across the street looked beyond disrepair, probably termite ridden and filled with asbestos. The front door hung on one set of hinges, and the boarded up windows looked like infected eyes with moldy patches, torn open. Years of decay and garbage seeped out of them. You really didn't want to look into places like that. You were afraid of what you might see. Or worse. What might see you. He half expected a zombie to pop out.

To break up his wandering thoughts, he shook his head. This was real. He was right here; right now. _Booth and Dr. B had been kidnapped for God's sake. _ This was not a movie.

But then again -

"Oh my God." His words came out as more of a hiss than anything else. "Booth!"

_The Walking Dead_.

Hodgins wished he didn't watch so much television. He put his hands over his mouth to keep from screaming, and sucked in as much air as he could through his nose to keep from passing out.

_Get a grip. _The phrase surged through him like it was someone else's words in his head. He concentrated on his feet for a few seconds and counted to ten. Then, his eyes darted back to the figure a few yards down the street.

Booth shuffled closer, his every breath jagged. His shirt hung from him, torn in more than a few places, splotched with clots of rusty stains. He almost gurgled, pausing to spit in the dust. _What had happened to them? Was Dr. B still alive?_

Booth's face was the worst part, distorted to a grotesque mask. One and a half eyes swelled shut; his flesh tinged a horrible rainbow. Dried blood a strange blush across his cheek. It looked like he'd been stung by one heck of a bee. And that bee carried a baseball bat.

Hodgins realized he was holding his breath and his next gulp of air came in as a shudder like a kid crying. Processing the situation proved difficult, but try he did. But he kept going back to the fear in his chest. The twisted knot that kept squeezing and squeezing. He didn't want to call out for fear that he might reveal them both to Gina.

/./././././

Booth looked up to see the former King of the Lab standing not ten feet from him. He held his hand up to dull a glare that wasn't really there. He thought he might be seeing a mirage.

"Hodgins."

"Booth! Oh my God, I can't believe I found you."

"Hodgins, we gotta get some help."

"The cavalry is on its way. I'm parked over-" He pointed over his shoulder.

"No, I can't go that way. I left Bones back there." Booth motioned with his whole body. "You got a gun?"

Hodgins nodded and half grinned. He felt all golden for a moment. "Why, yes, I do."

He reached into his jacket pocket and produced the small handgun. Booth took it and moved to head back to the warehouse, but he paused. And Hodgins watched life seep back into Booth's every pore.

"Call for help. Stay here." It was as if the gun gave him magical powers. Despite his awful appearance he suddenly took on his usual action figure look again. Hodgins was mesmerized. Then it all faded and Booth stood before him about ready to collapse.

"Nah, man, you look like you could use some help."

Booth held up his hand to say no, each word a struggle. "Get on your phone. Tell them we need bolt cutters. Stay here."

"I'm coming with you, man." Hodgins did his best to project confidence and authority. Both of which he possessed only in limited supply.

Booth sighed and shook his head, clearly giving in to the squint. "Stay behind me. And watch for Gina."

"Yea, she's around here. I just saw her duck into that building over there." Hodgins gave a clumsy wave in the direction of the derelict row home just yards from them.

Booth made the worst face at Hodgins, like an exasperated, disappointed father. "Why didn't you say that in the first place? Show me."

/./././

The sirens seemed to float to her from another dimension. Angela gave the rear view mirror a quick glance, not thinking much of the sound. This was a city. There were lots of emergencies. Lots of sirens. Her focus was on the corner and the store. The last spots she'd seen her husband and Jack. She battled the urge to jump out of the car and follow them.

There was a low rumbling in the distance. Was it the traffic on the interstate? Something in the harbor nearby? Maybe there was a late season storm brewing. One look at the sky definitely spoke of that possibility.

Then the sirens grew louder. This time, she turned her whole body and peered through the rear window. There was a black spot at the far end of the street. As it grew larger she realized it was a blob of SUVs. Behind it a blaze of color lit up even this sunny day. The air crackled with the approaching cacophony.

Her breath caught in her throat and tears ran down her face. _The cavalry had arrived._ A rush of indescribable relief burst from her every cell. Then another more powerful rush of panic. _They might scare Gina away with all the racket._

She wanted to run out into the street and wave them away. Grabbing her phone, Angela dialed Cam and screamed into the phone when her boss picked up.

"Stop! You'll scare her away!"

_Ask and you shall receive._ So quickly, the flash of color broke off from the group and only two vehicles crept toward her at a considerably slower pace.

She barely heard Cam try to explain that fire trucks and police weren't with her. A comedy of errors had in fact erupted. There was a fire two streets over. An odd coincidence for sure. They'd all run into one another like an old black and white movie, funneled by the one way streets.

Angela sighed heavily. _Thank God_.

/././././

Gina heard the sirens. Then, she heard a board creak. The sirens could wait.

Another creak, this time closer. She held her breath. No more sounds except sea gulls. Even the sirens had died away.

The black man had come looking for her. Of this she was dead certain. _How silly of him._ She almost laughed out loud, but instead trapped the chuckle inside her chest where it warmed her and readied her for battle.

Another creak, though this one seemed longer, slower. _He was trying to be careful._ More laughter bloomed in her chest. She stood like a stone, willing herself to blend in like a chameleon. She imagined her skin as dried up and peeling as the wall paper and exposed boards. Let him enter the room. She would pounce.


	78. Rag Doll

_****Sorry for the long wait. I haven't forgotten about this story. Thanks to everyone for reading.**_

_**Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own Bones. ****_

Gina smashed her enemy over the head with a broken piece of floor board. The man crumpled like a doll, and a smile slithered across her face. Satisfaction bloomed in her chest giving her an extra boost. _It was so easy. _

Kicking him, she did a quick visual assessment. She could tell he was breathing. That was it. Nudging him again, there was no response. He could be pretending, a voice in her head warned. She kicked him harder. Still nothing. So she rolled him over. His eyes were closed and jaw slack. She gave him another swift kick for good measure.

She didn't want to waste a bullet on him. He didn't matter to her. He was simply in the way. She could tie him up and leave him there for the rats. First she would make sure he had nothing to offer her.

Wiping her hands on the pants, she contemplated how best to extract intelligence from this man. He had to know something about the other man following her. She'd seen them together across the street.

Her mission could not be compromised at this juncture. She'd put too much into her plan. There was more to be done, and no one was going to ruin in for her.

Circling the unconscious man, she considered her next move while keeping a sharp eye on him. He barely stirred even to breathe. Kneeling down, she decided to wake him up, her weapon at the ready.

And then she saw a mirage through the tattered greasy film of plastic covering a nearby window.

/./././

Hodgins would never tell anyone he almost pissed his pants. Not even Angela.

When Gina appeared in the doorway, he came close to losing all control. Her eyes were black holes, empty of anything human. He half expected her to flick her tongue like a snake and devour her prey while he and Booth watched, helpless to do much of anything.

She held Jumpin Jack by his collar. His head lolled to the side, chin touching his chest in a freakish manner. Blood seeped from a gash in the side of his head. Hodgins wanted to turn away from the horror of the moment, but he gulped back a scream and held his ground.

"Sending me your best, I see, Seeley." Her voice was sandpaper and nails on a chalkboard all at once.

Hodgins also felt the urge to cry, yet all emotion was frozen solid except for one thought. _Was Jack Flash alive or dead?_ This man, a stranger, had tried to help and now he dangled like a doll from the arms of a madwoman.

"Let him go, Gina." Somehow this crazy powerful voice came out of Booth. Hodgins did not cease to be amazed. He thought of those old movies with God booming commands to Moses.

"That would be so easy, wouldn't it?" She acted as if she just might toss her captive like a sack of potatoes. Booth and Hodgins flinched. She grinned, showing some teeth. "But where's the fun in that?"

"You don't have to do this."

She jerked toward Booth. This time, Hodgins noticed Jack didn't seem quite as limp. For a second he wondered if there was hope to save him. His mind quickly switched back to Gina's awful face when she began to speak again.

"You can't tell me what to do anymore, Seeley Booth."

"No, no I can't." His voice hitched just a bit as he hid a wince.

"You've already had your fun, telling me what to do. Giving me orders. It's my turn now."

She took a few more steps toward them. Hodgins fought the urge to back up. He had to stay and fight beside his friend. He just didn't know what to do. Breathing through his nose and biting his lip to keep from babbling incoherently was enough to focus on right then.

/./././

Fragments of voices rumbled at the edges of his mind. It hurt to form complete thoughts so he didn't try. He felt like he was dangling in space, yet his feet were touching something hard. If only his legs would obey his commands, he could test out his surroundings and run away. But the most pressing thing right then was breathing. Darkness began its descent again as something slowly choked off his air.

_Wait a minute._ The white bitch. She was there in the house. He had to stop her.

Jumpin Jack gave one errant swing with his practically useless arm and struck something solid.

/././

_He's alive._ Hodgins swallowed hard as his throat clamped up from sheer relief.

Jumpin Jack caught Gina in the face, just across the bridge of her nose. Reflex took over and she dropped her prey. He thwomped to the ground in a heap and didn't move again. Hodgins was screaming inside his head, urging Jack to get up and run. To get himself away. The monster wouldn't be weakened for long.

But then common sense prevailed. Booth all but whispered. "Don't move, man. Stay put."

Gina quickly recovered, eyes watering and snot oozing from her nose. Her tongue flicked to remove what her hands didn't wipe away. With renewed energy, she kicked Jack in the ribs. This time, he groaned.

"Good idea, Seeley. We wouldn't want to be hasty. Bad things can happen."

"This man did nothing to you, Gina." Booth edged toward her.

She wiped her hands on her pants. "I'll kill him, Seeley. Don't come any closer."

A gun appeared out of nowhere and Booth froze, putting his arm out to make it clear to Hodgins not to advance.


	79. Disintegration

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. But it sure is fun to play with the characters.**_

_**Thank you for reading and sticking with this story. :-)  
**_

_/././_

The two women waited in the Director's vehicle. He'd ordered both of them to stay put. And they listened – for the moment anyway. They'd been sitting there for about ten minutes and the seams were coming off their patience.

"It's all my fault, ya know."

"Your fault?" Cam turned to Angela.

"I told her I was pregnant and she ran."

Cam gave her another confused look. "How is this –" She stopped realizing she wasn't really meant to answer.

"At the Diner. The day she disap- The day Gina took her."

Cam nodded her head, acknowledging, sympathizing. She gave Angela a moment or two. But then she broke the spell, pulled the plug on the impending pity party.

"Stop." She reached across the armrest and squeezed Angela's hand. "None of this is your fault. Gina did this. If you had been with Dr. Brennan, you could have been-"

Her words dropped off the edge of a cliff. Angela thought about it for a moment.

She could have been hurt.

She could have been killed.

She could have been kidnapped.

She could have been many things.

She could have saved her best friend.

She could have kicked Gina's ass.

She could have prevented it all.

She could still do something.

Without warning, Angela bolted from the SUV barely feeling her feet hit the crumbling asphalt. And definitely not registering Cam's loud disapproval. She kept her focus on her goal – finding her friends.

/././././

Sweat rolled down from her forehead, just along the bridge of her nose, barely missing her swollen eye. She winced away the itch this little traveler created. It was difficult to move. Temperance knew she was fading.

But at least she was still responding to stimuli. Her rational mind managed to keep her head over water. And there was something else keeping her sane.

_Booth_.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she swallowed the gulping, gasping crying jag that was about to roll over her body once again. Except she had no tears.

This feeling of helplessness, of having to totally rely on her friends to save her was maddening. There was nothing she could do but wait.

And die.

Shuddering she pushed away that thought and focused on the pain. It meant she was alive. Temperance wasn't ready to accept defeat.

Someone would come for her. Booth would come for her.

He knew she had a heart.

Her thoughts kept circling back to the letter even though now it was all such a vague echo. Like a movie playing in her head. She didn't blame Booth for Gina's actions. She didn't even blame him for saying those things about her.

Temperance knew she could be cold. And some people might believe she didn't have a heart. Metaphorically speaking, of course. You couldn't live without a heart.

And there it was. That seed of knowledge. People didn't relate to her. Or more accurate, she did not relate to them. There were too many shades of emotions. Too much to decipher. And you got it wrong sometimes. Or people betrayed you with their display of fake feelings. She'd rather not be deceived. She'd rather not be let down. It was easier to just – to just hide. To compartmentalize.

But then Booth happened. He changed her. He made her feel safe, even in this place. A warm sensation fluttered over her, sinking into every cell. It relaxed her. _Booth. Together._ She smiled and felt her body loosen up. Her eyes slid closed. She realized it was now difficult to keep them open.

She kicked at the wall.

_Wake up! _ She growled. _Stay awake!_

Her whole chest burned as the sting from her ribs radiated outward with each breath, but she felt energized. The pain would keep her eyes open if she just allowed herself to feel it without panicking. Breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth. In and out. Focus.

_Stay awake._ _ Just a little longer. Stay awake._

/./././././

_Shit._

Cam wasn't sure if she'd spoken the word or just thought it in her head really loudly. Her chest felt like it had collapsed in flames. She dug into her bag for some antacids. What she really wanted was a cigarette.

Angela had just flown from the relative safety of their cocoon, dust flying in her wake. And a phalanx of agents flapping their arms and ordering her to stop followed behind her. She didn't listen.

This was suddenly very close to getting out of control.

What if she lost all of them?

Cam counted their names in her head.

Temperance.

Booth.

Hodgins.

Angela.

Her colleagues and even more so – her friends.

On the edge of her seat already, she tipped over the edge and exited the vehicle. Hesitantly placing her feet on the ground, she scanned the area. Most eyes were still on Angela. Voices screamed into walkie talkies. She pushed it all out of her head. All she would do was get a little closer. She needed a better view.

Cam couldn't sit on the sidelines and watch from afar.

/././././

"A fucking gum wrapper?" Gina spat the words at Hodgins and then gave Jumpin Jack another whack with her steel toed boot.

Hodgins said nothing and tried his best not to make his eye contact too direct. He didn't want to look at her scowling face, the heart of madness. But he had to look at her. She'd already fired at him for not looking at her. He was sure he'd felt the bullet whiz by him, and this time, he was sad to report that his pants were no longer dry.

Something had clearly loosened all of her screws. And to make matters worse, he noticed Booth was now fighting to remain upright. He could see him give an almost imperceptible shiver every so often and sweat poured from his friend.

"You must think you're pretty smart, science guy." She sidled around their fallen comrade. He gave no indication that he was conscious. She'd kicked him back into oblivion if he moved.

All Hodgins could see was the barrel of the gun. He caught himself trembling.

"Scared now, aren't ya? Science won't help you here. You need nerves of steel." She touched the barrel to his chest. "Do ya got'em?"

Gina backed away just as quickly. He'd swear later that she'd moved in a flash like a ghost. She was everywhere at once. He felt more than a little woozy, pounding heart crawling into his throat. Next thing to let loose would be his lunch.

"Don't think I'm not paying close attention to you, Seeley Booth. I know you're armed." She grinned and stepped back behind the line that was the crumpled body of Jack Flash. "Question is, did science nerd here even load his gun? Is the safety on?"

/././././

Booth could feel the weight of the gun in his waist band. And there was no hiding it. His reflexes weren't even close to what they normally were. There was no way he could get a shot off before she did. Not in time. Not right then. He'd have to wait for the perfect moment.

They'd have better luck right then if Hodgins still had the gun hidden in his jacket.

Too late for that.

_Shake it off._

All he needed was a distraction. Whatever, whenever. He had to watch for it. That golden moment. They always came along. Always. There was no way they would fail him now.

He had to save Temperance.

As long as Hodgins held it together, they'd be okay. That's all he kept telling himself. Gina liked to talk. Let her. He could wait. And she'd make a mistake. Booth could feel it.

And then she crossed the line. Raising the gun at Hodgins, she laughed. "I'm tired of looking at this fool. I think I'll kill him now. Wouldn't that be perfect, Seeley? It's not like you can stop me."

/./././

"See, that's where you just don't get it, Gina. I do know what I'm doing." Booth raised the gun. She was toying with Hodgins, messing with his mind. He had to steer the conversation before his friend lost his cool.

She in turn pointed her weapon at Booth. "It's not a game, Seeley. This isn't some training exercise."

He shook his head ever so much. "No. No, it isn't."

"This is life. You get one shot." The breeze tossed the fringe of hair framing her face and her eyes were dark. Beautiful madness.

Booth steadied himself, focusing his breath. "That's right. One shot."

"Will you take it?" She enjoyed taunting them. He flashed back to what Sweets said about feeling like a mouse. His body tingled. He could feel the moment pushing forward. He'd be ready.

Then, everything moved in slow motion. Every sound seemed slurred and thick. A familiar voice rolled through his brain. At first Booth only registered it as female. Hodgins gave the answer.

"Ange!" Hodgins turned to run but stopped, motioning with his hands. "Stay back, babe."

Gina laughed and fired in Angela's general direction causing her to duck for cover on the closest porch. She aimed at Hodgins and he put his hands up to shield his face, mouthing something under his breath. Booth had seen this before, things devolving into an amorphous mess where people got hurt. Usually the wrong people. Gina was in her element. Chaos. Her laughing had become a howl that threatened to disintegrate what ever brain cells Booth had in good working order.

He couldn't allow himself to get sucked into it all. He suddenly became very clear on what needed to be done.

He fired.


	80. Green Light

_****Thanks as always for reading. **_

"I can't believe you shot me." Gina took a step back.

Booth watched as shock and disbelief bubbled up from the depths of those cold, cold eyes before anger melted anything human left in her face.

"You fucking shot me. Me. After all I've done." Gina held her aim steady, though he could tell she was resisting the urge to look down at her leg.

Blood oozed from the hole he'd put there. He was sure she could at least feel the tickle of liquid dampening her pants and rolling down her leg. Before the pain settled in, if shock didn't take over first. Maybe she could feel the heat. Bullet wounds could be hot.

He didn't say anything back to her. Just stood there rooted to that spot. Not believing what he'd just done. It normally wasn't such a surprise, shooting someone.

For a second he thought about his fingers. He couldn't feel them grasping the gun. Couldn't feel the trigger he'd most surely squeezed.

"Booth." His name was a mixture of both Angela and Hodgins, their voices blending into one curious plea, tugging on him. Holding him to this time and space.

_Shake it off._ He struggled to maintain control.

"Nobody shoots me." Gina roared back into focus. Her eyes were laser points. Her voice fierce with anger. "Not even you, Seeley."

Just then, a long arm shot up, grabbing her wounded leg, and pulled Gina off balance.

_Jack Flash._

/././

Gina tumbled to the ground, as Booth lunged forward. He grabbed Jack, not thinking about much other than getting away. She rolled on to her side, head landing at an odd angle. He couldn't see her face. He wondered if she was dead.

Half crouched he put his body between Gina and their new friend. Jack moaned and tried to sit up. Booth held him down and waited, his gun raised, arm twitching ever so much. His eyes quickly scanned for her weapon, and he spotted it just as Hodgins scooped it up.

And they all stayed like that for what seemed like a long stretch of minutes. No sounds except for the hum of traffic in the background and noises from the harbor. Heavy machinery grinding and grinding.

And then, just like that – it was over.

Agents swarmed them, yelling all sorts of commands. Radios crackled. Phones buzzed. Booth couldn't tell what was what. He was awash in sound. White noise. Frozen like a bronze statue to some forgotten battle.

Then someone whispered in his ear. Caroline, he vaguely registered.

"It's over, Booth." No response. "Cherie?"

He melted just a bit. If Caroline was real then so was he.

"You can go home now, Booth. It's over."

Booth simply nodded and lowered his weapon. His arm a lead beam, suddenly too heavy to lift. He was falling apart, a walking sculpture of bandages and stitches, bones broken, flesh torn.

"It was a clean shot." Caroline's voice came again from a distance. "No one will dispute that."

He nodded again, his neck the only part of him that would move, not sure why he cared about clean shots and disputes. All that mattered was that she was on the ground. In sea of federal agents hovering around Gina, he kept his focus on her face. Her eyes didn't open. They kept working on her, yelling for the EMTs. Everything sped up and then slowed down like someone had their finger on the remote buttons.

His stomach churned. Everyone moved too fast, shooting around him like some absurd merry go round. He grabbed for what ever stable thing he could find.

"Ow, cherie, I usually charge for that." Caroline raised an eyebrow at him. "Booth, it's over."

She put her hand over his and he loosened his grip. "It's okay now. You got her."

A surge of rage rippled through him and he raised his arm again. Gina had to pay for what she did. He ignored Caroline and her surprised gasp.

"Everyone step aside." His words froze like ice crystals in the air.

And the sea parted just like that. No one ordered him to stand down. No one said a single word. They stopped mid action and moved away from Gina.

Her eyes fluttered open and for a second, he saw the girl he'd kissed in the desert. Then that mask fell away and he saw the bitter, broken woman beneath it all.

"Do it Seeley. Finish the mission. You have the green light." Her words were all run together in his head.

All he heard was green light. Those words stung him. He knew she was right. Not a soul there would fault him for ending her life. It would save people a lot of work in the end. A lot of grief.

But no – he couldn't do it. Killing her would be doing Gina a favor. He couldn't grant her last wish. No, he wouldn't do anything for her.

Booth turned and walked away, finding the strength he didn't think he had.

He had someone to see, and no one would stop him.

He brushed passed Caroline. "I need bolt cutters."


	81. Heroes

For a second all Temperance saw was bolt cutters coming at her and she panicked. A garbled squeak of a scream escaped as she tugged on the heavy chain, her struggle to get away an instinctive response more than anything. She knew she couldn't escape.

"Bones."

His voice immediately cut through her panic. She stopped thrashing against the chains and caught her breath. She reached for him, grabbing his pant leg like she was drowning. She kept repeating his name.

"Booth."

All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and never let go. First he had to free her and end this madness. Booth cut the chain and she fell to the floor.

/././

Angela and Hodgins appeared in the doorway, mouths open in utter disbelief and terror. This place was so horrid, so menacing. A scene from a nightmare. Hodgins knew he wouldn't sleep right for days. He pushed down a flashback of being buried alive. Angela grabbed her husband's hand. She thought she might faint.

Then Booth turned toward them, his face a puzzle. There was relief and joy yet there was also panic and pain. Hodgins took one look at Temperance, whipped out his cell phone and ran back into the hallway, his pleas for help echoing as he went. Caroline had been holding the fibbies at bay at the other end of the hall. They didn't need a dozen or more agents crawling all over the place.

"Temperance." Angela hardly ever said her friend's real name.

Temperance floated to the surface again, this time buoyed by a seemingly unfamiliar voice. Yet she did know this voice. She sought to catalog it in her mind. It was female. A friend.

"Ange." She mumbled, her breath thick with pain. She had to fight to stay above the blackness. Temperance struggled to sit up but could not lift herself.

"It's okay, Bren. Don't move. We've got you." Angela had no idea what to say. She just knew her best friend needed to lie still. Help would come.

Booth collapsed beside them. Angela moved to check him, giving him a light shake when she found his eyes closed. She admonished him to stay awake. He obeyed and pushed himself back to a seated position using the wall as support.

"I got her, Bones. I shot Gina."

"Dead." Neither Angela or Booth were sure if it was a question or statement.

"No Bren. She's alive." Angela delivered the news.

Her next sigh was so punctuated that Angela was afraid Temperance had died. But when she felt for a pulse, she found one and then cradled her friend with trembling arms, whispering in her ear to stay with them.

Those words found Temperance somewhere near consciousness and she smiled. She reached out her arm and found Booth. The three of them were soon engulfed by a wave of people with Hodgins leading the charge.

/././

There was a flurry of activity. Angela was pulled out of the way by Cam and Hodgins, but they all hovered nearby their friends, waiting and watching. Both Booth and Temperance were evaluated, with Booth protesting loudly. He would be fine. Focus on his partner.

It was over for now. He could feel his body relaxing, and he didn't want that to happen. If he took something for the pain, he just might shut down completely, and he wasn't ready. He kept asking about Gina but got no answers. He grabbed Hodgins and gave him an order.

"Please, man, go find out about Gina." Booth took a deep breath with an oxygen mask.

Hodgins waited to make sure there wasn't more and then asked. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Anything."

The lab rat nodded and trotted off to see what he could find. Angela was not leaving Temperance. She managed to maneuver closer so she could hold her hand.

/././

Hodgins ran down the hallway and through the darkening old warehouse. The shadows thrown by the setting sun were downright creepy. He told himself to just keep going. There were enough people around with guns to sufficiently protect him. He had one mission at the moment. Find out about Gina.

When he reached the spot where she'd been two dozen or more minutes before, she was gone. An ambulance and a parade of dark SUVs were just roaring down the street. Another person popped into his mind. Jumpin Jack. _What happened to him?_

He tried to get the attention of one of the many agents still milling about the location, some gathering evidence and taking pictures. Others were just standing there talking into cell phones. Then, Hodgins saw Hacker. Throwing all formality aside, he approached him.

"Hey, do you know what happened to Jack?"

For a moment, there was only confusion registered on the Assistant Deputy's face. Then it softened. "Oh you mean the other gentleman?"

"Yea, the guy who saved our lives."

This brought about another change of expression to the face of the FBI agent. "Saved your lives?"

"He led us to Gina."

"I assume there's more to it than that. You all have quite a story to tell."

Hodgins shook his head. He was getting away from his original mission. "Where did they take Gina?"

"I'm guessing that's either Booth or Temperance asking that question." He paused and looked away for a second. "How is Dr. Brennan, Dr. Hodgins?"

"Answer my question first."

"Ok then. They took Gina to a local hospital, Shock Trauma, I would assume. Don't worry. She's under heavy guard." His phone buzzed and he checked the screen before returning his focus to Hodgins. "And your new friend Jack is also on his way there. Seems there was some confusion about which side he was on."

Anger raced through him. _How could they doubt Jumpin Jack Flash?_ "Confusion? He saved our lives."

"You already said that. And I just made it clear that Mr. Flash is a hero."

"Thanks man."

Hodgins decided that was all the information he would get out of Hacker. He turned without another word, running back the way he came. He didn't have to go far. He was met halfway by a rush of agents and he jumped out of the way, all the while searching for his friends.

Temperance lay on a stretcher with Angela jogging alongside. Both seemed rather serene for the situation. Something about that made him really proud of his wife. Tears burned in his eyes. He felt himself relaxing just a bit.

Booth trudged just behind them, simultaneously leaning on and then pushing away any of the help he was offered. This made Hodgins chuckle and he ran over to offer his assistance.

"I don't need any help, dammit." Booth spat at whoever got close to him.

Hodgins offered his arm. "Let me."

Booth was suddenly all business. "What did you find out?"

"They took Gina and Jack to a local hospital, Shock Trauma, I think. Hacker wasn't certain."

"Not certain? He just didn't want to tell you."

"What does he think you'll hunt Gina down and finish the job?"

Booth stopped and glared at Hodgins. A few others around them paused too, watching for a reaction.

"Don't ever say anything like that." Booth did not blink.

Hodgins took a step back. His emotions were on overload. He almost felt like Booth was ready to punch him and he didn't know why. Shaking it off, he held onto Booth tighter.

"Come on, let's keep going."

/././

EMTs loaded Temperance into the waiting ambulance. She barely had the strength to even reach for him but her voice was strong and clear.

"Booth."

He tried to grab her hand but was pulled backward.

"Wait, Agent Booth." The strong muscled arm of another agent stopped him. He was nose to nose with a colleague. Neither of them blinked. The other man did not get out of his way. If anything, he moved in closer.

"I've been asked to detain you. The Deputy Director has a few questions."

"It can wait."

"No, no it cannot. I've been asked to detain you now."

Booth grit his teeth. He did not want to wait. He had to go with Temperance. He didn't want to leave her side again, and in the back of his mind, he also knew he needed medical attention himself.

/./././

_**** Thank you all for reading! **_


	82. Boundaries

_**Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.**_

_****Diclaimer:I don't own Bones. It's just fun to take the characters out for a spin once in a while...**_

Traffic rumbled like thunder in the distance. The world was going on without them. Everything slowed down and Booth had to remind himself to take a breath. Temperance was slipping away yet again. He reached for her and she was gone, hurried away in a rush of people. A blur to him as his body gave way to emotions and tears threatened. He needed a distraction. And that someone was right in front of him. The junior field agent stood his ground, determined to follow orders to the letter. A perfect target for Booth.

"Hacker wants to speak with you." The other FBI agent took a step back once he'd taken a good look at Booth. "Agent Booth, you look terrible."

"What do you think I'm gonna look like, Sherlock? It's not like I was kidnapped or anything."

And as soon as he acknowledged his own fragile state, the adrenaline washed out of his body. Booth stumbled forward, scaring the younger man just a little.

But he wouldn't let the more senior agent see it. He braced Booth to keep him from falling.

"You have to wait here for Hacker." He was not budging. Even though it might not end well for him.

Booth was having nothing of it. "Do you want my fist to meet your face?"

The agent was about to launch into a soliloquy about rules and regulations. Lucky for him, his face was saved by the self proclaimed King of the Lab.

Hodgins rushed over, stepping between them. "I've got this."

An engine revved and tires kicked up a dust cloud. The three men watched the ambulance scream away with Temperance and Angela both inside. Hodgins held on to Booth, feeling his friend tremble and shake.

"Your car. Get it." Booth bent over, hands on his knees, out of breath. He glared at Hodgins when he didn't move right away, hoping to convince the lab rat that he was just as much in command as ever.

Hodgins obeyed, taking off in a sprint. Before Booth could kneel down to calm his spinning head, Hacker wandered over. The sight of his boss sent a surge of energy through his body. He'd have to get this over with and fast. He couldn't handle anymore delays. He had to get to Temperance.

So, he took the abrupt approach. "I'll talk to you when I'm ready."

Booth growled at Hacker, totally disregarding the fact that he was his superior. He kept searching the street for Hodgins and his clown car.

Hacker stepped back, eyes wide with surprise. "God, Booth, you're a mess. You look like you could use your own ambulance."

Booth wanted to grab his boss and shake him for stating the obvious. Every second here was one away from Temperance. He didn't want to be away from her, couldn't be away from her. Finally he caught sight of his salvation.

"I'm going, Hacker."

Booth pushed him aside and strode to Hodgins and his waiting vehicle. He felt somehow stronger and more alive. A weight was beginning to lift. One short trip, one quick car ride, and he'd be with her.

He threw himself on the seat, all arms and legs, barely making it safely inside before he could shut the door, and Hodgins sped away without a word.

Booth just hoped he didn't run into Gina.

/./././

Temperance was blinded by the glare from a giant floating orb above her. Shapeless forms moved and stretched out to her, offering little assistance. She knew she was experiencing some visual irregularities due to dehydration and shock, but that rational part of her mind was not in control. She thrashed in her bed. She was an animal in a zoo.

This dance was exasperating. Temperance couldn't take much more. Doing nothing, remaining still was maddening. She was afraid if she slipped into unconsciousness, she would wake up and find this was all a dream. And she'd be tethered to that terrible place awaiting a rescue that would never come.

Only one thing really mattered. She could take the torture if only she had the answer to one question.

"Booth, where's Booth?"

Her voice was a little raspy as she pulled the oxygen mask away from her face. Nobody answered her. It almost seemed as though they couldn't hear her, or worse, she wasn't really speaking. She could be blathering like an idiot, convinced she wasn't speaking gibberish. She tugged against the IVs and did her best to sit up. With each attempt, she inevitably collapsed in an unwilling, frustrated heap. Nurses did their best to keep her stationary, failing miserably, until Angela forced her way into the room.

"You can't be in here." Voices echoed as if from a recording.

"Like hell I can't. We're family." Angela pushed to get closer to Temperance. She had to use the bedrail for support as a wave of nausea hit her. She caught her breath. "And family sticks together."

The staff took a few steps back and she realized she'd screamed at them.

"I'm so sorry. Don't mind me. She's just my best friend. And pregnancy hormones are a bitch."

Angela put her hand on her belly. One of the techs brightened up a bit. "Do you need assistance, ma'am?"

"Ma'am? Really, you're calling me ma'am?" Angela glared at the younger girl, probably a med student.

Temperance broke the tension. "Ange, where's Booth?"

Angela grabbed her friend's hand. "I don't know, sweetie. I'm sure he'll be here soon. He's with Jack. They'll be okay."

_Now that Gina is locked up. _The thought floated through her mind. Angela didn't say it out loud. She wasn't so sure it was true. Turning her focus back to the present moment, she took a deep breath and cleared her mind. She squeezed the hand she held so tightly and whispered a little prayer under her breath.

/././

Cam stood in the hallway, feeling a little out of place. The emergency unit of the hospital was busy this evening. She imagined it would be most nights here in the city. It was one of the most preeminent facilities in the area, known for its expertise in trauma.

And trauma was what they'd all experienced.

She didn't feel like she should go in there with Angela. Not yet. Not here. This in-between place was too intimate. Angela could do all the emotional heavy lifting for now. She'd wait until the staff got Temperance settled into a room.

For now, she watched and waited, vowing to stay steady for the group. She leaned against the cool wall. Angela had been back the hall for more than half an hour. There was nothing new to report. No one had seen Booth yet, and she wondered if they'd taken him somewhere else. There were other excellent hospitals in the area. Maybe they didn't want him to be near Gina.

_Gina._ Cam could only shake her head. _Such a sad case._ She'd seen Gina's folder, her exemplary service record. Something had happened to her though. There were obvious pages missing from her file. Somewhere along the line something had clearly broken. She tried to replace her anger over what Gina had done to her friends with abject pity. It was the only way to stay sane at the moment.

What Cam really wanted was a cigarette or a stiff drink to calm her nerves.


	83. Just Like That

"Cam." Angela stood in the doorway that led back to the inner depths of the hospital.

Camille smoothed her blouse and tried to compose herself. "How's Dr. Brennan?"

"As good as can be expected, I guess. You can come back, you know."

She smiled and shook her head. "No, I'll wait here."

Angela nodded. "You're waiting for Booth."

"Yea Booth." She looked at the floor. She barely heard Angela say okay.

It felt good to be included. But Cam preferred to stay on the edges of this one. It was all too close to home. Two colleagues, friends really, had been kidnapped and tortured. All because of a love affair. And words spoken in anger.

Angela's voice brought Cam back to the real world. "They'll be moving Brennan to a private room soon. They want to keep her for observation. Run some tests."

"Oh, okay, let me know when they do."

Angela smiled and turned away. She knew how Cam felt, wanting to wait for someone. And she'd only been away from Hodgins for about an hour. But she kept walking toward the triage room and her best friend.

A voice stopped her heart. "Ange wait up."

Hodgins stood at the other end of the hall, grinning ear to ear.

They met in front of Cam and hugged, gathering up their boss as well in their embrace.

"How's Brennan?" His eyes were wide with that crazy mix of adrenaline and exhaustion.

"She'll be fine once she gets some rest. The docs are looking her over. She might have a few cracked ribs and a concussion. Lots of bruises. They want to run some tests."

"To which she is probably protesting, I'm sure." Hodgins shook his head.

"Oh, she is not a happy camper." Angela closed her eyes and sighed. "Her biggest problem is Booth. Where is he anyway?"

Hands on his hips, Hodgins looked down the long hall. "He got stopped by the cops. Boy is he mad. He sent me ahead to let you all know he's alright."

The doors burst open, one of them flapping against the wall and Sweets appeared.

"Where are they? What happened?" His cheeks were pink like he'd run all the way from the parking garage.

"It's fine, Sweets." Hodgins jumped in before young shrink could go on rambling. He was clearly flustered. The rest of them had already practically digested the situation. Sweets was fresh with concern. "The docs are looking over Dr. Brennan. She'll be fine once she gets some rest."

"Okay, okay." Sweets nodded and caught his breath. "It's all over the news."

"Oh dear." Cam exhaled loudly. "I better make some calls."

She backed away from the group and pulled out her cell phone.

Angela took this as her cue to take control of the moment. "I think it'd be nice if you two found the food court. Get some coffee. Sit down. I'll let you know when they move Bren. She's not in the mood for visitors at the moment."

Both Hodgins and Sweets looked at one another and at the same time said what everyone was thinking.

_Booth. _

/././

Cam found herself alone again. She didn't mind. She wasn't in the mood for coffee and the thought of eating anything turned her stomach. She was so wound up and tired that she didn't know what to do except stand there and watch for their missing friend.

The door creaked open. It too seemed exhausted by the stress. Her mouth fell open when she saw him. Somehow being removed from the decay of that broken city street made his presence all the more haggard.

"Booth."

His clothes were ragged, practically hanging off him. He was dusty and dirty and splotched with blood. Her eyes darted to the floor for a quick hardening of her resolve to hold it all together, and with a deep breath, she turned back to him. Seconds had passed.

"Before you go in there."

He stopped, his fingers curled into fists. She watched his whole body bristle.

"Cam."

Her name a question and a statement. His voice was stern at the edges. She could tell he was pushing himself to remain upright. And he would definitely not listen to her.

"Have you seen a doctor?" She knew the answer to the question already. She didn't even know why she was stopping him there in that in-between space. But part of her had to talk to him, hear him speak, for just another minute to make sure he was real and not part of some dream. She could not wrap her mind around the day's events.

He shook his head and closed his eyes for a second. His next words flowed on the wave of an annoyed sigh. "No, I haven't."

She grabbed his arm, an attempt to anchor him to the moment. "You should get checked out."

"Don't stop me, Cam." He tried to jerk away but she was stronger. But the flash of his anger scared her a little. It melted away and was gone in a split second. He was looking for Temperance. And she was in his way. Simple as that.

"I'm not. I just- " She stopped and backed away, her fingers trailing the length of his arm until she barely hooked one of his fingers. And then she moved away, gave him space.

"I'm sure there'll be a doctor in there." He motioned toward the room. "Someone will get a good look at me. I feel fine, Camille. Just a few scratches."

He grinned. She didn't react to his weak attempt at lightening the situation.

/./././

"I want to go home. I'm fine. I don't need to be here. I need to find Booth."

Temperance rambled on about her condition and her desire to leave. Everyone nodded along, including the staff, but no one moved to meet her wishes. She became increasingly adamant about leaving though she didn't move to untangle herself from the medical rat's nest of IV lines and O2 sensors. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. Angela knew her best friend was exhausted beyond measure. Her rational brain would not shut down until it had one need met.

_Booth._

And just like that, he appeared in the doorway.


	84. Requests

Tears. Tears of joy. Tears of relief. Pain, release. All things intermingled and absorbed and trampled and loved.

Booth didn't hesitate in the doorway. He went right to Temperance and wrapped himself around her. Not worrying about the state of his affairs. The dirt and grime. The blood and dust. This was one more thing they shared. One more thing they uniquely understood.

Temperance nuzzled into Booth. He did his best to be careful of her IV lines. But it was all he could do not to scoop her up and carry her out of there. They were out of the warehouse but they were not free. Freedom would come once they were back at home – his place or hers didn't matter – and in bed sleeping. Holding on to each other for dear life.

A sigh came out as sob and the mood in the room changed. No longer was the staff caught up in the moment. The spell was broken by a well meaning med student.

"Sir, sir, we should get a look at you."

"All of this excitement isn't good for Ms. Brennan."

"There are too many visitors in the room."

Well intended advice turned quickly to nagging, and Booth snarled when anyone came close to the bed. He was going nowhere. Angela maneuvered herself in between the pair and everyone else in the room.

"Please for the love of God, just give them a few minutes. It's been a long day!"

And everyone listened. Without another word, the small cubicle cleared.

The leader of the pack stopped on his way out and motioned for Angela with a very authoritative finger.

"Only a few minutes, mind you. They both need medical attention. And love isn't going to fix it."

"I don't know about that." Angela crossed her arms and stared them all down until they backed off and gave them some space.

/././

"You need to be examined by a physician."

"I don't want these kids probing me. Besides, I'm fine. I've been through worse. Give me a fresh dressing for this wound, and I'll be all set." His hand moved reflexively to cover this left side.

"Stop being difficult, Booth. These kids are-"

"Probably smarter than me?"

"No, that's not what I meant." Temperance for once didn't say everything in her thoughts. For she did in some way believe they could be smarter than Booth. Not in the way he meant – and well, she knew this time she must filter her thoughts and tread lightly to get what she wanted. Which was for Booth to be seen by a doctor.

"Go and get checked, Booth." She squeezed his hand.

"I'm not leaving you."

"You'll still be here, in the same hospital. I know you're not leaving me."

"I am not leaving you alone."

"I won't be alone. Angela will stay until you get back." She looked over at her friend who nodded from the comfy reclining chair someone had brought her. "See, she will be right here."

"What if they move you?"

"Someone will tell you where to go, Booth." Angela pushed up from the chair and stood beside him. "I promise they will. They're all a little scared of me anyway. They'll do what I say."

Temperance chuckled at this. "You sure are doing well at the Mama Bear routine."

Booth gave both of them a confused look.

Right on cue, a small girl in a lab coat marched into the room looking more than ready for a fight. "I'm here to take Mr. Booth to an exam room. FBI orders. An Agent Hacker wanted me to personally escort you."

Angela caught a laugh by coughing but Temperance didn't hide her delight. The decision had been taken out of their hands. Booth might scoff and complain, maybe make a few jokes but he would not easily disobey orders. Most of the time.

/././

"Just give me a doggie bag for my meds. And I promise to take them like a good little boy." Booth sat on the edge of the bed, bare legs dangling. He'd changed out of his filthy clothes and was now only wearing boxers and a hospital gown. He still hadn't been able to shower and shave; luxuries he sorely missed. The toll the last few days had taken on his body clearly visible.

Scratches, scrapes, abrasions, lacerations, bruises, contusions. It didn't matter what you called them. They were the map of his pain. They only led to the truth of the matter. How vague and vacuous it would all become would depend on the people trying to lay down words like pavement to make things permanent and visible. But the toughest part of the ordeal lay inside, unseen and utterly unfixable with any sort of medicine. Only time and love would heal them. There was little justice when the perpetrator herself was undeniably broken and battered. And she too bore most of her wounds on that inner landscape that few believed even existed. They would charge her and punish her while the blame lay somewhere thousands of miles away on a desert road.

Booth took a deep breath and tried to put on a smile for the doctor and his assistant. A nurse in training he gathered, as this was one of the country's preeminent teaching hospitals. They wouldn't quite understand what was going on inside his head. They were here to address the physical wounds. Those things evident with tests and scans. They might send someone his way if he let on that he needed to have a chat about his mental status but he knew well to keep his mouth shut. He didn't want to spend any more time within these walls than necessary. And if he really wanted to talk it over, he knew he could drag himself to Sweets.

The doctor, oblivious to anything but the chart in front of him, smiled back at Booth and continued with his advice.

"I'm afraid it's more serious than that, Agent Booth." The doctor adjusted the pages on the chart. He had trouble looking the other man in the face. "A strong dose of IV antibiotics is in order. You're lucky you didn't aggravate what I'm guessing is a stab wound more than you did. And looks like you received a pretty hard knock on the head."

The doctor didn't know the half of it. Booth shook his head, sighing. "No, no I cannot stay. I need to get out of here."

"You will, once we've had time to get some meds and fluids into you. Get your ribs taped up. I'd like to run some tests and examine you further. You've been through a difficult experience."

"Yea, doc, I get that. I really do. But right about now, all I need is a few ice packs, some strong drugs and my own bed." _And Bones beside me, he thought._ "I don't need this crummy- What I mean is, I just want to go home."

The doctor chuckled. "Believe me, Agent Booth, you are not the first person to say that to me. Trust me, please. I know what I'm doing. If we do this right, I bet I can have you outta here in no time. End of the day tomorrow maybe. And I stress maybe."

Just a little defeated, Booth nodded and accepted his fate. He had one request. "Can I at least be near Bones – er I mean Dr. Brennan? Maybe in the same room?"

"Your colleague?" The doctor shook his head. "I'll see what I can do about that."

"And another thing, doc."

The doctor smiled and nodded for him to continue.

"I'd really like some vanilla pudding. Do you guys have that here?"

"Of course, Agent Booth. Once you're cleared to eat, I'll put in an order for you."

/././


	85. Checking In

_**Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy the next chapter. :-)**_

_**Disclaimer: Oh yea, I own nothing but my plot. **_

"There, I did it." Booth shrugged uncomfortably in the loaner scrubs. He'd have to wait for Hodgins and Angela to return with changes of clothes and toiletries for both him and Temperance. "I got checked out."

"Why are you dragging that IV pole around?" Temperance leaned against a pile of pillows. "You should be lying down."

"I'll do that, babe. Once I make sure you're okay."

"I'm sure your abdominal wound is infected. Were the sutures still intact? Did they tape your ribs?"

They seemed like idle words. He knew she was exhausted. He felt the same.

"That's why the good doc gave me this IV." He tapped the bag of liquid. "I'll be good as new in no time."

"Booth, no one is ever good as new. Our bodies-"

"Ssshhh." He squeezed her hand. "No more chit chat. Let's just sit here."

"You're waiting for your pudding, aren't you?"

He grinned but didn't answer.

"It's too late in the evening for dietary services."

"Aw, come on. Don't ruin my fun. And anyway, I bribed an orderly to get me some."

Temperance smiled and laughed. "Only you, Booth."

/././

Booth stayed with Temperance all night. He didn't leave her side. As they moved from room to room down secret hallways with doors that swung open like magic. He kept pace with the staff like it was any other day. All the while dragging the IV pole and getting admonished by a dozen different people from every medical stripe possible that he should be in bed. He didn't care what they said. They were together again and nothing was going to tear them apart.

Until of course the over zealous doctors-in-training shooed him out of the private room at shift change in the morning. Waking from the first sleep he'd had in what seemed like days, he reluctantly walked to the hallway, intending to go only as far away as needed. He even cracked the door so he could hear.

To his surprise, Camille stood down the hall, chatting with the staff at the nurse's station. He watched her for a second smiling.

When she saw him, she ended her conversation and walked his direction returning his smile. "Good morning, Seeley."

"Morning, Camille."

"How's Temperance?"

"She's fine."

"Ready to go home, I'll bet."

Booth nodded and tilted his head trying to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, Cam. For the way I treated you."

She closed her eyes and turned away. Touching a finger to her lips, she seemed to be collecting herself. When she opened her eyes, she smiled. "No need to apologize. You were- It was a rough day for all of us."

"Did you get some rest?"

"No, I've been here all night. I was checking in and then heading home."

"Checking in at the nurses' station?"

She was really having a problem meeting his eyes. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"Camille, come on. Don't give me that."

She smoothed her blouse and took a deep breath. "Don't call me Camille, Seeley."

Her smile was pained and a little uneasy. He looked away, and for the first time in hours felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been in this happy bubble ever since he made it back to Temperance. He hadn't bothered to process anything else.

"Come here." He held out his arms. She didn't budge. "I mean it. Come on."

His grin was contagious and she stepped into his embrace.

"I am so glad you're safe, Booth."

/././

"It looks like you'll be here another night, Dr. Brennan." The doctor shook his head. His minions also agreed. "We didn't get these test results until late, and I want to watch a few things. You've a great deal of bruising to your lungs and diaphragm. And combined with the concussion, cracked ribs and the previous GSW to your shoulder, I'm concerned about your overall health. Another night here under our careful watch is in order, I'm afraid. I can't say any more than that."

Temperance did her best to keep her face blank. She wanted to have no opinion one way or the other. This was after all one of the nation's preeminent healthcare facilities. The physicians and their staff some of the best in their field. But she wanted to go home. Being poked and prodded was never her idea of fun. She was the one who was supposed to do the investigating and examining. She was tired of being watched. Being a spectacle. It was too much. It was just too much.

"I am guessing you understand the possible severity of your condition and why it warrants such concern and precaution on our part." He cleared his throat seeming to be more and more uncomfortable in her silent gaze. "We only have your best interest at heart, Dr. Brennan."

"I understand. That's fine." She put on her best smile.

"I take it your partner will be staying with you?"

She felt herself blushing. "Yes, I believe he intends to stay at the hospital until we are able to leave together."

The doctor nodded slowly and she sensed some displeasure. The urge to justify Booth's presence swelled and then faded. Discussing such a personal matter was not on her to-do list. She knew they were a distraction. The story had been all over the news with reporters trying to get up to the secured wards. Gladly, she'd witnessed none of the drama. Booth would be boiling if he knew.

It was odd that she hadn't seen him for more than an hour. _Where had he gone?_

"Dr. Brennan?" The doctor squeezed her arm. "You seem to be drifting. I'll let you get some rest now. We'll chat later."

/././

Booth stood there feeling nothing. Looking down at her, he didn't even feel numb. She could have been a mannequin lying there on the bed.

He almost hadn't gone through with it. He'd watched Cam walk down the open staircase and disappear into the crowd in the atrium waiting area outside the locked unit. He noted with a relieved smile that the reporters seemed to have vacated the building.

An acquaintance on the staff had filled Cam in on Gina's status and room number. And she had shared the information with Booth. _Would she stop him if she knew what he was about to do?_ _Would anyone? _

Gina was just one floor up from them on another secure ward. He had no trouble slipping through the locked entrance as the doors swung open to let the automated meds cart slide through. He chuckled at the robot for a moment, marveling at the technology. The staff member on the other side barely gave him a second glance since he was still wearing scrubs.

He didn't know why he had to go and see Gina. He just did.

Booth watched her from the end of the bed. Everyone seemed peaceful when they slept. That look of total surrender and vulnerability. Unless, of course, nightmares taunted the dreamer.

He wondered if she remembered her dreams. What did she see? Her mind seemed so twisted, tied in knots of confusion, rage and disappointment. Maybe he'd let her down way back then. Had he overlooked something after their convoy ran into trouble along that supply route in Afghanistan?

No, he reminded himself. He'd done everything within his power. Sometimes, problems showed up later. There was no way to tell. Combat had a way of rearranging everything that was once normal and safe, tainting what ever it touched.

He didn't owe Gina anything. He had to push the wouldas and the shouldas out of his mind. They would grow tentacles and strangle him if he let them. He'd seen it happen to good men. Looking too far back and getting stuck in the past was useless and dangerous. Booth had done his best for those under his command.

He felt it with a certainty that made his heart ache. Because all that care hadn't been enough. It never was, and any leader worth their snuff ultimately knew and understood that sad fact. Bad things happened in war. To the good and the bad alike.

His mind traveled back to the present, and he focused on the clinical stuff in front of him. In this moment, he summoned his inner Temperance. He noted that Gina was restrained and receiving oxygen, her injured leg elevated. An uneven track of stitches outlined one of her eyebrows. Two IVs snaked their way in between a thin white sheet and her arms. A faint beeping sounded every so often as machines kept track of her vitals and the level of her pain meds.

He closed his eyes and sighed. While on a distant human level, it pained him to see her like this; he felt no guilt about putting her there. It shocked him that he cared at all. _After what she'd done._ He shook it off and forced himself to be fully in the present moment. No emotions. Nothing messy like blame and guilt. Anger and revenge. He allowed an empty feeling to form in his chest. Let it blossom until it crawled out to his fingertips and he again felt absolutely nothing.

Gina wasn't real. She was an illusion. A cartoon. He backed away and ran right into the nurse.

"Oh sorry." She smiled and checked the chart in her hands. "I didn't think Ms. Gina was to have any visitors." She frowned at him.

He lowered his head. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Is she a friend?"

"You could say that." He met her eyes. "She once was."

The nurse nodded. "And you're here at the hospital at the same time? What a coincidence."

She paused and looked at him more closely. "How did you know she was even here? She's a special case. A high priority-"

The guard poked his head into the room. "He's with me Greta. It's okay."

She turned to the agent guarding her patient and her expression softened, but only for a few seconds. Focusing on Booth again, she looked him up and down. "Well you should get back to your own room. By the looks of things, someone downstairs is missing you."


	86. All Over the Map

She knew he was there. Once she'd come out of the anesthesia after surgery, there was no way she could get any rest in this place. All the beeping and people coming in and out – _how could anyone sleep?_ To add insult to injury, she was strapped to the bed, caged like an animal. She felt like asking someone to scratch her ass just to be funny. She needed a laugh. Gina was having a rough day.

Then suddenly, none of that mattered. Booth had checked on her. That went a long way to making her happy. He didn't have to come. She knew he was taking a chance. Her chest tightened a little at the revelation.

He still _loved_ her.

He risked his safety to make sure she was okay.

He did that for her, so -

She would escape for him. Give him another chance to make it all up to her.

Gina jerked on the restraints, loathing their cruel efficiency. She'd come up with a way to convince the hospital staff to release her; then she would pounce. Her lips curled into a smile at the thought of punishing them for treating her this way.

She closed her eyes and let the aggravation slide away. All in due time. She would get her reward, even if it meant stealing it. For now, she took stock of her situation.

Her room was small but private. There was a guard outside of the door. He'd poked his head into her room a few times, as if she could vanish into thin air. Another minor roadblock that could be used to her advantage. After all, she was trained to disarm.

A single window gave her a rather boring view of another hospital building and the slanted light of morning. There was a small bathroom to her left. A white board with the date and names of her nurse and technician hung from the opposite wall. A cabinet filled with medical supplies sat below it, no doubt stripped of anything sharp and useful. Hospitals were careful about that sort of thing, especially when their patient had a chaperone.

She was receiving oxygen through a nasal cannula, and for now, she decided to leave it alone. Any deviation from the current course would alert the staff to her plan. Not to mention, the oxygen helped to clear her head. Breathing deeply, she flexed her hands and turned her wrists in the cuffs to gauge their tightness.

They hadn't restrained her ankles so that was a plus. Not that she'd be doing much kicking at the moment. Booth had chosen to immobilize her with one bullet to the thigh. An expert shot chosen to drop his opponent with less risk of hitting anything important. He had done what the moment called for and she couldn't hold it against him. It was their training after all.

She looked down the length of her body. Her leg didn't hurt much but she knew it was the meds talking at the moment. She wiggled her toes to make sure they worked. Numb as they were, they still obeyed her command. She flexed her ankle. It too cooperated though the stiffness would need to be coaxed out before she could put much weight on it. She did the same with her good leg only she tested her knee and hip as well. She would need to keep the blood flowing as much as possible to stay light on her feet.

But first she had to get out of the restraints. It was only a question of keeping an eye out for the right moment. Gina knew she would find a way.

_She always did._

And she couldn't let Booth down; no she couldn't remove him from his debt. He owed her. _Big time._

/././

They heard them coming before they saw them. Angela laughing. Hodgins apologizing. And then the robot medicine cart rolled down the hall passed the room. Booth stood in the doorway to watch it. He chuckled every time watching it move along, opening doors as it went.

He waved to his friends, thrilled to see them. Mainly because he hoped they had fresh changes of clothes and toiletries. He grinned even wider when he saw his duffel bag slung over Hodgins' shoulder.

"My man!" He slapped the scientist hard on the back. "Thank you for this!"

"I wouldn't be so sure until you see what she packed. She wouldn't let me touch it."

"How bad could it be?" Booth paused for a moment and looked at both of them carefully. "Are you yanking my chain? Because now is not a good time."

Angela smiled. "Don't worry about him. I know what I'm doing. You'll be fine." She shoved him aside. "Now let me go see Bren. And I really need to get off my feet."

As she disappeared into the room Hodgins visibly softened. "Hasn't been a good morning. Between puking and mood swings, I'd say we covered every possible emotional mind field between here and DC."

"Puking? Is Ange sick?" Booth turned toward the room. "Should she be up here?"

Hodgins tilted his head and studied Booth for a second, scrunching his eyebrows just a bit. "You mean you don't know?"

"Don't know what? What are you talking about?"

"Puking. Mood swings. Come on, man."

Booth lit up. "You mean? You and Ange?" He smacked the lab rat on the back again, this time harder. "Congratulations!"

He practically dragged Hodgins into the room. "Bones, did you know?"

"Did I know what, Booth? That is a rather vague question. You need to be more specific."

He sighed. Someone was definitely feeling more like herself. Her touchy, irritable self but better than the previous day.

He lowered his voice. "Did you know Ange is." He stumbled on his words. "That she's gonna have."

"A baby." Temperance finished it for him. "Yes I did know."

He watched what he could only describe as a pleasant wave wash over her. "Yes she told me before-" She stopped and swallowed hard. Storm clouds were brewing behind those eyes.

"It's okay, sweetie." Angela leaned in to hug her. "I'm just so glad you're okay."

She turned to Booth, holding out an arm motioning for him to come closer. She pulled him into her embrace and squeezed them both maybe a little too hard. "Now don't you two ever do that to me again!"

Hodgins nodded from the corner chair. "See I told you. All over the map."

/././

Cam couldn't stay at the hospital any longer. She'd left word with Angela and Hodgins for them to keep her in the loop. Booth and Temperance would be home by the next day, for sure, and things could settle back into a more manageable, recognizable routine. She needed to get some sleep.

First, she needed to stop by the lab to check in and fill out some paperwork she'd been letting slide. The place was oddly quiet and the guard greeted her with the kind of enthusiasm only brought on by boredom. And maybe a little loneliness. She updated him on the situation and slipped into her office.

Only she didn't find the privacy she'd expected.

Sweets sat on her couch, eyes closed and a file slipping out of his lap.

"Dr. Sweets?" She hoped her voice wasn't as clipped and curt as it sounded in her head. "What are you doing here? Are you okay?"

He jumped and caught the papers before they fell to the floor. "Oh sorry, Dr. Saroyan. I stopped by to see if you'd made it back yet, and I think I dozed off for a bit."

"What do you have there?" She pointed at the file, knowing it must be important if the he was holding on to it for dear life like he was.

"I've been over this file. Too many times."

Cam nodded. "Gina."

"Upon further examination of her file, I've concluded there was an event which led to her instability." Sweets flipped through the pages. "A Traumatic Brain Injury would be my guess. Probably undiagnosed. Because I don't see any medical records besides the mention of a suspected concussion sustained in the field after an IED exploded alongside a convoy carrying Gina and Booth, their unit.

He paused and sipped his water. Cam stirred her coffee but didn't move to drink it. Sweets continued. "Has Booth mentioned any of this?"

"No but he never talks about his service."

"That's actually quite common, especially someone as modest as Booth. Examination of his records shows a more detailed report of the incident in question."

"Wait, how did you get a copy of-"

Sweets shook his head. "Not sure. It was slipped into the files after I had pulled them. Someone wants us to know about Gina." He stopped and took another drink before clearing his throat and reading the notes. "Booth's vehicle was ahead of the blast. He was not injured. Area was secured quickly. He rescued two soldiers from a burning vehicle, including Gina. Took out two insurgents along the road."

"I had no idea."


	87. Divine Directions

"What about this Jumpin Jack person you've mentioned?" Temperance shifted in her bed. She pushed away the tray table, careful not to knock over the collection of drinks, lotion and snacks Angela had brought for her.

Booth sat up a little straighter in the reclining chair. The nurse had forced him to sit down and rest after checking his vitals. He was still a patient after all. "So that's really his name?"

The group had been happily chatting about everything except Gina and the kidnapping. It was a place none of them really wanted to go. And as usual, Temperance was the first to bring up something uncomfortable, breaking down barriers of tact and politeness with her sheer desire to dissect the situation.

"Jumpin Jack Flash." Angela beamed.

Booth smiled and stretched. "Man there has to be a story behind that name."

Hodgins nodded. "He sells bottled water in the Inner Harbor area."

"Gives great directions too." Angela added.

"I can't believe you let him in your vehicle, Ange." Temperance made a distasteful face. "Statistics show the odds are more skewed toward the hitchhiker's favor in cases of violent crime."

"Bren, it was nothing like that. Besides I just had a feeling."

"And he called her an angel." Hodgins could not contain his grin.

Temperance looked from Hodgins to Angela. "I'm not sure what mythological beings have to do with getting directions."

"It was a calculated risk then, Bren. We were desperate to find you, so we picked up a guy off the street." Angela knew there was no arguing with Temperance.

They could all tell she was guarding her true feelings. Right then just about everything threatened to overwhelm her rational sensibility. The sudden appearance of Jack Flash could only have been the result of divine intervention, if you asked the three of them. Temperance, on the other hand, would never admit it if she even had the slightest inkling of a thought in that direction.

"I'm glad you picked him up." Booth shook his head, and then closed his eyes, putting his palm to his forehead. "Man, am I ever glad you did."

Hodgins fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. "You know, I really should go see him. Make sure he's alright."

"Want me to come with?"

"Nah, Angie, I'll check in on him and then see if he wants any visitors."

Angela nodded and squeezed his hand.

/././

"Where will you go?" Hodgins asked his new friend.

"Right back to my spot if someone doesn't take it over by the time I get outta here."

Hodgins didn't see the point in arguing. He didn't have a clue how to truly engage Jack. They were from utterly different worlds. "How long are they keeping you?"

"They say I need another Xray or somethin or other. That crazy lady bonked me on the head pretty hard. I still can't eat much I'm so dizzy." Jumpin Jack smiled. "Of course people that know me would say it's a normal condition."

Hodgins smiled back.

Jack pressed on his temples. "I do really wish I could have a little something to smoke. Would help with the nausea."

"Can I take you outside? Or get you one of those eCigarrette things?" Hodgins was missing the point.

"Nah a different kind of smoke. But thanks for the offer. I might just take you up on that. I can bum a loosey off someone here."

"A loosey?" This was a new word for the squint.

"You know - a loose one. An extra cigarette."

Hodgins shook his head. "Gotcha."

Neither man spoke for a few minutes. Hodgins watched men working on the hospital loading dock below them. He wondered how anyone could sleep with all the noise. He turned back to Jumpin Jack.

"Let me know if I can help you with anything, man. A place to stay. Money."

Jack opened one eye. "Speaking of cash, you still owe me for those directions."

"Don't worry. I'm good for it."

They laughed and then Jack cleared his throat. Hodgins filled his water glass and sat in the chair he'd pulled close to the bed.

"Thanks for the drink." Jumpin Jack took a sip of water. "So, how are your friends?"

"Good. They're both good."

Jack nodded. "That's nice to know. I was worried about the lady. She didn't look too hot when they hauled her outta that warehouse. Nothing good ever comes from that place. They should knock it down."

Hodgins didn't say anything so Jack kept talking.

"Your friend, she some kind of celebrity? I heard one of the nurses talking about getting her autograph."

"Yea, she writes books, and she works for the Jeffersonian."

"Oh yea, that museum or some such in DC. Been there years ago on a field trip. She some kind of scientist?"

"A forensic anthropologist."

"Sounds serious."

"You could say that. She helps solve murders. Gives families closure." Hodgins stumbled on his words.

"They have a museum for that?"

"She also studies ancient cultures."

"Including their bones?" He took another sip of water. "I heard the other guy call her Bones."

Hodgins smiled. Jack Flash was very perceptive. He let him talk.

"The other guy. The one who shot the crazy bitch. How's he doing?"

"Pretty good."

"I figured he'd be okay. Looks tough like he's been in the service."

Hodgins nodded.

"So he's FBI?"

More nodding from Hodgins.

Jumpin Jack leaned back on his pillows and closed his eyes. "I wanted to be in the FBI once. They said I didn't have the test scores. So I chucked it all to come back home. Did my time, though. Served our country. But she's a fickle bitch."

/././

Something was gnawing at Booth. He'd held it together and played up the positive the best he could. Hodgins hadn't returned from visiting with Jack Flash yet, and now he couldn't stop thinking about Gina. There was only one guard watching her. _One guard._

He splashed his face with water again. They were going home today. Hacker was stopping by soon. Booth would voice his concerns then. Surely, his boss would see his point.

_Gina was not to be taken lightly._

He peeked out of the tiny bathroom to see Temperance and Angela still chatting. Temperance touched Angela's belly more than once, and her smile was contagious. Concerns about Gina were pushed aside for the briefest of moments, and Booth grinned at the thought of a baby.

/././

_**Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story. We are approaching the end! :-)**_


	88. Warriors

Temperance didn't know what to think of the sleeping man in front of her. She'd made Booth wait in the hallway, wanting to meet Jumpin Jack Flash on her own terms. A stranger to them, Jack had gone above and beyond simply giving directions. He could have scammed her two clueless friends. Instead, he led them into battle.

Life intersected in some pretty spectacular ways. She marveled at the timing. A random, fortuitous meeting. Because of a gum wrapper, bottled water and directions. None of it was rational. She wouldn't let herself go into a metaphorical discussion like her friends. It was just too much at that moment.

"Hey pretty lady."

He startled her, but she recovered and introduced herself. "Hello, I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan. I'm told your name is Jack?"

"That's right. Folks call me Jumpin Jack Flash." He smiled.

She nodded not sure what to say.

"See folks call me that because of the way I dodge traffic."

"Yes, my friends mentioned you are a panhandler."

"If you mean I sell my wares in the street, yes, that's right. Bottles of water, T-shirts, and sometimes directions."

She made eye contact and steeled herself. She wanted him to know she was serious. "I say you are a warrior."

Jack chuckled at this. He pushed himself up in bed just a little more, wincing at the effort.

"Please don't start talking about African tribes, ma'am."

Between his abruptness and the word ma'am, Temperance was a little stunned, but pleased. She treasured honesty in all its forms.

Jack Flash winked. "Your friend Jack filled me in on you, smart lady."

She nodded and returned his smile.

"And yea, maybe I am a warrior. I kinda like that."

/././

Booth stood in the hallway, waiting for her. He'd promised to give Temperance a minute or two alone with the man who'd helped to save them. She'd protested using the wheelchair but gave in when he reminded her that if she wanted to get out of the hospital today she had better follow the orders of the staff. _Put on a show_ was how he put it.

And she'd acquiesced just like that. No more arguments. She sat in the chair with a huff and ordered him to roll her down the hall. He wanted to laugh at her bossiness, knowing she was feeling better, and it was her way of dealing with what she considered an annoying, unmanageable situation.

He looked up and down the hallway, watching the staff do their thing. Marveling at their efficiency, he said a few thankful prayers. If you were injured in Baltimore, Shock Trauma wasn't a bad place to be. Really, it was the best.

Booth leaned against the cool wall, reading the signs about hand washing and cell phone use, wondering about the stories of the other patients. He watched their stats on the monitors outside each room, saying a few more prayers for those who weren't so lucky. And he waited for his turn to meet the remarkable, brave stranger.

/././

Closing his eyes, Booth took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He hadn't accepted anything stronger than some ibuprofen, and his body ached. He just didn't recover like he used to. Stretching, he cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck, hoping to release some tension. A cloud of exhaustion hung over him. But it wouldn't stop him.

"Booth?" Temperance squeezed his arm.

He turned to her and grinned. "Hey babe."

She smiled at the affectation. "I do like that pet name very much."

"I'm glad because it's what I'm gonna call ya." He kissed the top of her head.

"You can go in now."

He nudged the wheelchair and raised an eyebrow at her. "Now promise you will sit here and wait for me."

"Yes, Booth I will sit there and obey." She rolled her eyes and sat down, shooting him a sharp grin.

Booth squeezed her offered hand and then left her sitting there.

/././

The room was darkened by the drawn blinds. Jumpin Jack lay with an arm over his eyes. He didn't notice his visitor at first.

Booth didn't want to startle him so he just stood there for a minute, eyes traveling over the room. It was similar to the one he shared with Temperance only just a bit smaller. Jack had one IV line that he could see; a muted monitor steadily kept track of his heart rate. His head was bandaged.

Booth remembered the blood and the seemingly lifeless body that had been Jack. Only a day or so before. He couldn't remember. Had trouble keeping track of the passage of time.

_Get a grip._

Shivering, he shoved those memories back down into his chest. This man they called Jumpin Jack Flash was alive and hopefully would come out of this with no lasting effects. After all, he'd saved their lives.

"I know what you're thinking." The voice was deep and solid. "And you can stop it."

Booth cleared his throat and went to speak but Jack kept talking.

"I did what had to be done. And so did you. End of story. It's all about duty, am I right?"

Booth could only nod.

"I saw your friends, they needed help. Ain't nobody gonna help anyone in that part of town. Just ain't the way it happens. Ernie mighta told them yes and no but that's it. I did what had to be done."

Booth crept closer to the bed and sat in the chair. "Thank you."

"See that ain't hard. Yea, accept what the Lord gives ya." He chuckled. "And fight like hell to get the rest."

Booth laughed. Jumpin Jack was certainly a man of many words. Which was good because Booth was all talked out. He didn't have anything to say except his thanks. That was it. That was all. He'd wanted to give some big speech about selflessness and honor but he knew it would fall on deaf ears. Because he too did what had to be done. It was part of the job.

And once a soldier, always a soldier.

To echo his thoughts, Jack spoke again.

"Yea I was in Iraq. Baghdad mostly. At the beginning. When each neighborhood was a different game. Spent eleven months there before they pulled my unit. Been here ever since." Jack sipped his water. "There's no use in town for a body like mine. Too many scars. And they ain't visible, ya know?"

Booth nodded. He understood. There was nothing to be said.

Their eyes met. War was hell and here he was fighting again. Booth wanted to help.

"If there's anything I can do."

Jack smiled. "Your friend Hodgins, the other Jack, he said the same thing. You all are a nice bunch of folks. Glad I ran into ya."


	89. One Guard

"I'm quite fine, Andrew. Thank you for asking."

Booth hated the familiarity, the intimacy of Temperance using his first name. _His boss. _But he swallowed that jealousy and stood by watching, just watching, not saying a word. He'd speak to Hacker out in the hallway and voice the concerns that had been poking holes in his stomach all day.

"I was so worried." Hacker squeezed her hand. This made Booth twitch just a little, but he held back knowing how Temperance would feel if he aired even the slightest bit of annoyance. "I am beyond relieved that we have you back safe and sound."

Hacker turned to Booth. "You too, Booth." Turning back to Temperance he resumed staring down at her with a hint of adoration in his eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without my best team."

Booth cleared his throat. "I'm uh – I'll be out in the hall."

He made eye contact with Hacker and motioned for him to follow. His boss nodded but didn't move. Booth listened to them chatting as he went out in the hallway, leaving the door open. He would wait.

/././

"I understand your concern, Booth, I really do." Hacker tilted his head and smiled.

This infuriated Booth. _How could that smile be appropriate at such a serious moment?_ He felt like he was a child being reassured about a thunderstorm or something. Hacker continued to babble on about safety concerns. Booth only caught part of it; the noise in his head was just too loud.

"We have this under control, Booth. You need to take care of Temperance."

At that Hacker paused, clearing his throat, and both men stared at the floor for a few seconds. Booth didn't like him calling her Temperance. It was petty and childish. Maybe he did need a babysitter.

"I'll put another man on your door. Temperance listed your address on her release form. _If that will make you feel any better._ Because I assume you won't be letting her out of your sight."

"Uh yea, boss. My place is-"

"You don't need to say it, Booth. I am well aware of your special relationship with our girl."

This made Booth all the more uncomfortable. Thankfully they were interrupted by a hospital team moving a patient down the hall. As the procession passed, both men seemingly looked for a way out of the awkward conversation. Hacker beat Booth to the punch.

"Well, I have to get back to DC. Duty calls." Hacker smoothed his dress shirt and stood a little taller. "You call me if you need anything. I assume you have some vacation time coming."

He looked up the hall toward the automatic doors. Booth sensed he was nervous about something.

"Wait."

"Booth, I really don't have much time."

"I'm not done yet."

"Alright, what is it?" Hacker glanced at his watch. "I can give you five minutes."

Booth took a deep breath and prepared to lay out his case. He wanted to be calm, reserved with his emotions, but it came out in a whoosh, and later he wouldn't be sure if he really wanted to know the true reasons behind the Bureau's lack of concern.

/././

"One guard?" Booth could barely contain himself. "One frickin guard."

"Yes Booth." Hacker backed away a few steps, suddenly regretting his decision to argue. "You've already said it. And I agree with you. But word came down from above."

"What aren't you telling me?"

Hacker looked everywhere but Booth for a moment, chewing on his lip. Then he steadied himself. He was the superior after all. "This case does not have a high priority any longer. You've both been found."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly but with some force. "You've already caused enough bad publicity. The Bureau is not pleased with all the media attention. They don't like the unsavory, salacious angle. The words love and triangle have been mentioned."

"What?" Booth could not think of any other word to say.

"Your case has been deemed a domestic-"

He cut off his boss. "What are you saying here, Andrew?"

Hacker did a bit of a double take at the use of his first name. While he and Booth were chummy at times, he was still his boss and this situation seemed to call for a bit more decorum though he knew emotions were running high.

"It is known that you and Gina were in some sort of relationship. In Afghanistan. There are pictures."

Booth could feel his face turning red. From anger and a little embarrassment. "Pictures? What the hell?"

His cool was mostly lost now.

"The two of you holding hands and entering your housing unit."

"Have you ever been in a CHU, _Andrew_? Mine wasn't a whole lot bigger than a tin can." There he went with the familiar name again. Hacker bristled at the slight and the informality. He didn't need to say that he hadn't been in combat.

Hacker cleared his throat and continued. "Gina apparently confided in some friends that she thought you were going to propose when you both got back to the States."

"This is pure insanity." Booth threw his arms over his head in disgust and dismay. "She is delusional. Which is evident because not only did she shoot Temperance on the street, she murdered her roommate and then kidnapped us."

"Which wouldn't have happened if you'd obeyed orders and stayed at your apartment, Agent Booth." His voice had stiffened a little. His tone suddenly became serious. "Not only did you endanger our investigation, you cost the Bureau resources and then put yourself in undue danger.

It was like he was reading from a script. Booth hardened his face, breathing slowly through his nose and making uncomfortable eye contact with Hacker.

"If I had not gone after Gina, we wouldn't – Temperance would not have been found."

Hacker dipped his head a little and pursed his lips together. Then he nodded.

"I know – the gum wrapper. Sure. A lucky break. We would have found Gina without it." Hacker shook off what little sympathy he might have had for Booth. He had to be all business. "Did you ever think she might have wanted you to find her? She knew this would end. It was all part of the game."

"It wasn't a game. There wasn't any kind of triangle going on." Booth tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. "End of story."

"Look, I'm really sorry, Booth. It was all I could do to get you an agent on her door. You shot Gina. She should be incapacitated for more than a few days, giving you and Temperance time to get out of here. And we'll ship Gina off to a sturdy psychiatric facility somewhere on the other side of the country."

"I thought the Bureau didn't want anything to do with this."

"They don't really. I still have some pull and a few friends who owe me some favors." Hacker put his hands in his pockets. "It's no secret that I care for Tempe. I know you'll take good care of her. And I'll help where I can, but the official Bureau stance is that the two of you should take what you get and watch your own backs."

/././

"Looks like we're on our own, Bones."

Temperance opened her mouth to speak, but Booth put his hand up.

"Hacker will do what he can to help. He can put two guys on my apartment for a few days. But that's it. No more."

There was a pause. He let it sink in.

"So we're on our own." Temperance squeezed his hand. "Which shouldn't be a problem. Gina is in custody."

Booth couldn't make eye contact with her.

"Your gut is speaking to you, isn't it?"

"Yea Bones, my gut is speaking to me."


End file.
